Time and Place Mean Everything
by Wesfan1234
Summary: Wesley and Faith must make a decision that might possibly change their world.
1. Let's Blow This Popsicle Stand

Title: Time and Place Mean Everything

Author: WesFan aka crayonbreakygal

Summary: Wesley and Faith must make a decision that might possibly change their world.

Pairings: Wesley/Faith

Rating: T (for now) for sexual situations, violence, and character death

Disclaimer: Hey, I'm only borrowing them from the mega genius that is Joss.

Author notes: -- Spoilers for everything, including the first through fifth season of Angel and the third season of Buffy through the seventh season. Hey, I gotta include the Scooby gang somehow. Not sure how much at this point. They will be mentioned. This is an AU story, taking place in different time periods throughout the Angelverse timeline.

**Chapter One—Let's Blow This Popsicle Stand**

Year: 2004

"We have to change it."

Wesley shook his head no. In his mind, this was right, just. To just go back and change it all for the person before him was ludicrous. Fairness didn't come into the conversation. Why would this be fair to him and his charge? They hadn't done anything wrong.

"Why would I want to?" he asked the person in front of him.

"Because it's the right thing to do."

"The right thing for you. Definitely not for myself or for Faith. You're on your own. There is no way I'm going back."

* * *

Year: 1999

"Done."

"Whoa. Are you sure? Cuz I wouldn't want your watcher friends gettin' all huffy and shit."

Faith had her meager belongings directly in front of her, as did Wesley. Two small bags, way too much excess baggage in their minds.

"Let's blow," Faith announced with little fanfare.

Wesley had no idea what on earth she was speaking of, unless it was something sexual in nature. He had come to realize that almost everything she did was sexual in nature. Slaying, eating, sleeping, walking. Or maybe that was his interpretation of Faith.

"You do realize that if we leave, there is no turning back?"

Faith rolled her eyes at him and picked up her duffel. "That's sort of the point Watcher Boy."

How long had he known her? A few weeks at the most. Did he know what he was getting into? Not in the least.

"Faith, my name is Wesley."

She rolled her eyes again, picked up his duffel and threw it at him, taking him down to the ground. Instead of possibly laughing in his face, she actually acted like she cared and rushed to help him.

"Dude, sorry. Don't know my own strength sometimes."

He'd have to watch to make sure he wasn't in her way when she slayed. Wesley definitely didn't want to end up in the hospital. Lucky wouldn't begin to describe his life up until that point. He was lucky to have been assigned Faith, or any slayer at all. He was sure that strings were pulled, in the form of his father. Now the girl stood before him, raring to start anew, away from Sunnydale and the OTHER slayer.

It hadn't taken long to convince Faith that the way out was the way out of town. She'd even told him that the Mayor had approached her with a job. In the back of his mind, he was almost certain that he'd saved her from something much bigger than she was. Plus, the Mayor of Sunnydale gave him the willies.

Their only form of transportation at the moment was a beaten-up, old motorcycle he was able to purchase with his meager salary savings. Living frugally had not hurt him much. It was amazing how cheaply one could live in Sunnydale. They'd have enough money for gas and occasional lodging until they reached Cleveland. He hoped they would have enough.

Faith had taken his offer, stewed on it for a day, and told him why the hell not. She wasn't doing anything else at the moment was her comment. Saving the world from unspeakable evil wasn't nothing, but that wasn't the way she saw it. She thought that slaying was fun. Adrenaline rush and not in a good way he thought.

The problem in his mind though was the fact that he would have to back her up now that they'd decided to join forces and go on the road. Neither had said a word to the Scooby gang as they liked to be called, although he did believe that Angel might have already figured it out. Since the vampire with a soul didn't always share people's comings and goings, he didn't think Angel would rat them out.

Strapping their bags to the back of the motorcycle, Wesley handed Faith her helmet. She didn't look very pleased with the prospect, but relented in the end when he glared at her. As she wrapped her arms around his torso to hold on, the first thing that entered his mind was "she could crush me with those arms faster than I could go from 0 to 60". Not a pleasing thought.

Wesley was taking a chance on Faith. A chance that she needed to escape the fact that two slayers could not operate in the same town much less region without getting in each other's way. Their styles were different. Buffy knew the area, which put Faith at a disadvantage. Buffy also had friends and family to rely on, where Faith only had her newly appointed watcher to look after her. The odds were in the original slayer's corner.

So it was decided to start fresh. He just hoped that Faith trusted him enough to see her through to Cleveland, where he heard a Hellmouth was forming. It should be the adventure of a lifetime.

* * *

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Faith thought as she saw her new watcher walk to his motorcycle. What had she gotten herself into this time? Dammit, she was gonna get him killed or herself trying to save him. Not that she wasn't heading down that path. The Mayor was going to kill her when he found out she rabbited on him. He was one evil dude. Nice on the outside, rotting on the inside.

Faith had decided that she didn't want to rot inside and out. She'd seen enough of that in her lifetime. It was time to be a man, or in her case, time to be a slayer. Not to be in Buffy the Perfect Slayer's shadow. Now was the time to blow this taco stand for greener pastures.

Adios Sunnydale. Nice knowing ya.

As she wrapped her arms around Wesley, she felt his ribs literally sticking out. Jeez, he was skinny. Way too skinny, which probably meant missed meals. She bet they didn't pay much at the Watchers' Council. Hell, Giles had a day job. Kept him in tea and books. Wesley had nothing other than the duffel on the motorcycle.

At least he knew how to ride a motorcycle. When he had suggested this form of a ride, Faith had tried to tell him that they could hitch. The rolling of his eyes at her suggestion was lost on her. Wesley had no legs to show, no breasts to flash. No one would pick them up. He was right. But they definitely would need to score a new ride soon. Her ass would be sore tomorrow because the seat springs weren't all that great.

She didn't think they'd be able to sneak out of Sunnydale without someone noticing. That was the problem though. No one noticed. That told her no one would notice for a while. By the time they did, she and Wes would be long gone. Neither had any friends or family to tie them down.

The trip to Cleveland could be long and boring, especially with Book Boy along for the ride. She didn't need to go looking for trouble at this point. The more miles she put between herself and the Mayor were for the better. He and his band of merry demons planned to take over Sunnydale, or that's what she had thought. Maybe the world. Buffy would take care of him eventually. They certainly didn't need her input. Giles was already suspicious. Smart guy that he was, she knew they'd do their jobs.

Now her job was to get her damn Watcher to Cleveland in one piece. The guy couldn't even hold a sword, much less fight off a vampire. Why'd she agree to do this?

As they hit the open road, Faith breathed in freedom. The kind of freedom she had craved, even with her first Watcher. She was so young back then, scared, didn't understand what was happening to her. It was amazing how much she had learned in a year. While her first Watcher had been experienced and older, Wes was young and impressionable. She'd be able to mold him into what she wanted. He'd jump when she said jump.

At least the guy was good with the books, just like Giles. All she needed was a little research and then boom, take care of business. The story of her life.

They stopped a few times for bathroom breaks and fast food, but kept on riding until the sun started to set the next day. Faith noticed that Wes limped a little as they walked up to the motel by the freeway. Only thing they could afford, he said. Didn't matter to her. A shower and a bed was all she needed, at least at the moment.

As they entered the run-down lobby, the grubby guy behind the counter leered her direction. Her leather jacket was unzipped to expose her very short shirt underneath. Pervert, she almost said, but realized they needed a room for the night.

Wes checked them in, handing over the cash. Did he just jerk the key out of that guy's hand? She hadn't been paying attention to what they were saying because she was spacing. Not enough sleep in the past few days with trying to figure out what in hell she was going to decide made her brain a little fuzzy.

Wes stomped out of the lobby, pulling his and her duffels off the bike. He didn't even hand hers over, just stomped on over to their room, flinging the door open and slamming it home after she entered. Faith could see the color on Wes's face, like he'd run a marathon, or was mad as a hornet.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked as he threw his bag on the floor.

"The manners of that man. I ought to show him a few manners."

Whoa, her watcher had a temper. The guy must have said something to tick Wesley off. What could he say to get the man's shorts all in a bunch? Faith shucked her jacket, threw it on the only chair in the room, and fell onto the only bed in the room. Jerk had not told them that there was only one bed. She could go back and ask him nicely for another room.

Wesley sat down beside her, putting his head in his hands. He had sneaked a few peeks at her, but mostly was just pouting. Curiosity was getting the best of her, so she finally asked him what was what.

"Ok, spill."

"Excuse me?"

The man had no idea about modern day word stuff, especially stuff regarding teenage girls.

"What'd he say to get your shorts all in a bunch?" Faith said as she spread out on the bed, arms and legs splayed across the double bed.

Wesley turned to look down at her and sighed. "I don't wish to repeat what that scum of the earth said."

Crap, now she'd have to drag it out of him. She hoped that he didn't keep this drama queen attitude up the whole trip. Kicking him in the leg, she rolled over and scowled at him.

"He said something I'd rather not repeat in mixed company."

"Oh, because I'm a girl? I'm a big girl. I can take it," she told him, almost laughing. Was he defending her honor? She'd lost that long ago.

"He implied, well, said, that we, oh blast it."

Wesley took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. Whoa, she could actually see his eyes. They were the bluest blue she'd ever seen on a guy. Dropping his chin down, he closed his eyes and started to spill.

"He asked how long we needed the room. I told him only one night. Then he asked how much I had paid for your services. When I informed him that was not the nature of our relationship, he then proceeded to ask if my wife knew that I was slumming it with some two-bit floozy."

Damn, no wonder Watcher Boy was all in a tizzy. She probably would have punched the guy's lights out. While she had fun and loved to party, she never had to prostitute herself to survive. It had almost come to that once or twice, but she somehow had figured out another way to eat and survive. It hadn't been pretty, but she'd done it with her dignity somewhat intact.

Wesley had really defended her honor back there. Maybe he wouldn't be such a bad guy after all.

"Whatever," she dragged out, hoping that Wes would calm down and that would be the end of it.

"So you're not bothered by that man's assumptions?"

Faith sat up right next to Wesley, touching knee to his. He didn't jerk back in surprise, but did raise his head to look directly into her eyes. Gah, she wished he hadn't done that. The man wore his emotions on his sleeve, or in his eyes. She could probably play poker with him and win everything he had, which apparently wasn't much if they had to bunk at the Motel 8.

"Not worth the bother. People have been saying shit like that about me for a while now. I gotta let it go. Badder things out there than shitheads like that."

Wesley smiled a little in return. "You're a better person than I am."

"Not likely," Faith answered as she pushed him down on the bed, scrambling up for the bathroom. "I call first shower." She slammed the door quickly, rattling the flimsy wall in her wake.

* * *

Waking up the next morning to rain that was coming down in sheets, Wesley thought they could make good progress that day, but with the rain, they'd have to decide whether it would be worth traveling, getting all their belongings drenched, including themselves.

Leaving Faith to catch a little more sleep, Wesley walked over to the office of the hole in the wall Motel 8. They looked to be the last guests by the lack of cars in the parking lot. As he entered the lobby, Wesley noticed that there was a fresh apple in a basket by the door. Grabbing it, he walked over to see if the clerk would let them stay another night.

Not seeing anyone in the vicinity, he grabbed a brochure, taking in the fact that they were near nothing of interest. Taking another bite of apple, Wesley thumbed through yesterday's newspaper. Blast it, where was the clerk? Didn't he or she know that this was a business?

As he walked to the counter again, he decided to see if the clerk could be in back instead of working. Since there was no bell to ring, he knocked on the counter, hoping the clerk would hear his impatience.

"Hello," he called as he walked around the counter.

Only he didn't make it any further, seeing that the clerk from the night before was lying on his side, throat ripped out viciously by something that still could be lurking in the shadows. Dropping the apple, Wesley backed away slowly as he looked around for the culprit. He wished he had Faith's sense for danger. Instead all he had was his wits. That didn't amount to much.

Deciding that leaving the half-eaten apple wasn't such a grand plan, he bent to pick it up, only to have something jump on his back. That something did not seem human, so he didn't hesitate to use his elbow on it. Only that didn't phase it. It had him by the neck. He could smell the decay and rot on its breath. If it didn't let go soon, he'd pass out for sure, ending up like the sleazy clerk. Slamming it up against the counter, he struggled with it but couldn't make any headway.

Just as suddenly as it had jumped on his back, it was gone. Wesley gasped for air while leaning on the counter. He could hear behind him fists being thrown. Turning, he saw that Faith was taking care of his attacker. The snap of a neck wasn't far behind. Faith dropped the ugly creature at her feet, wiping her hands on her pants right after.

"Oh, shit, that thing smells. What in hell happened? You leave for a few minutes and a demon attacks you."

He was glad that Faith had actually dragged on pants because the night before all she had on was a shirt and her underpants. Her hair was a tangled mess, she looked like she had just rolled out of bed, but he didn't care one iota. She had saved his life yet again.

"Not just me," he managed to gasp out, pointing behind the counter.

His neck hurt along with his back. Faith walked past him, checked out the dead body of the sleaze that had treated them unfairly last night, and walked back, unfazed.

"Dude, that's just gross. Job done though."

"Hardly," he explained to her. "If the authorities find the body, or both bodies, they could start asking questions."

Instead of him gasping for air, Faith let out a gasp as she walked behind him. "Your back doesn't look so good."

His back didn't feel so good, but they couldn't worry about that now. They needed to clean up this mess and get back on the road as soon as possible. They were lucky no one else was staying at the motel for the moment, but with the rain, there was sure to be guests sooner than later.

He and Faith rolled up both bodies in the rugs in the office and deposited them out in the dumpster. Surely someone would find them there, if just for the smell. He just hoped that no one would see them there in the early morning and report some strange occurrences. Wesley shut and locked the door to the office, placing the closed sign in full view.

Faith was ready with their things as he approached the motorcycle. It was still raining somewhat, but they needed to escape before any trouble started. There was no way they could explain what had happened. The pain in his back didn't matter at the moment. Getting Faith out of this situation was all that mattered.

As Faith grabbed his back, he gasped out in pain. She immediately dismounted, made him scoot back and took charge. He was so glad that she could actually handle the bike. He just didn't have it in him.

They drove for what seemed like hours before Faith decided to stop. The fact that he felt like he was going to fall off was probably the reason that she pulled over. Fishing in his bag, she found a pain reliever and handed him one. Downing it dry, he shook his head that he was fine.

Usually he liked traveling in the rain. The open road, the beautiful countryside washed clean was appealing. His neck wound had been forgotten with the pain from his back. He knew that the drugs he just took wouldn't do much, but any kind of relief would make it easier to stay on the bike until they had to stop. They needed to put as much distance between the Motel 8 and themselves as they could.

At lunchtime, Faith pulled into a greasy diner, complete with worn seats in the booths. She found parking under an overhang, no that it mattered at the moment since everything they owned was now drenched, except for his few books, which he kept wrapped in plastic for just this problem. Slowly, he made his way into the diner. Sitting down, he asked for coffee while Faith made sure the motorcycle wouldn't get any wetter.

Faith handed him more pain reliever as she sat opposite of him in the booth.

"Not sure I can eat," he announced quietly.

"You eat," she demanded. She definitely looked a little older when she bossed him around.

The diner was small and cozy with unlimited refills on coffee. While the smells at first made him nauseous, he found that just by sitting on a softer surface, his back pain eased up a little. The caffeine revived him somewhat as did the simple fare that they ordered. Faith attacked her food like no other, finishing it in record time. As she sat finishing off the rest of his meal, he watched her move. She acted like she didn't have a care in the world. How little the outside world knew about her.

Her hair curled wildly around her face, undoubtedly because of the rain. Her face was devoid of much makeup, which just showed how young she really could look. The white t-shirt she had put on the night before was tight across her shoulders and breasts. It was threadbare but clean, like she had owned it for quite some time, but took care of it. He suspected that everything she owned wasn't in the best of shape. How they would survive was on his mind constantly.

He did have a little money saved. They would have to find ways to earn cash to fund their endeavor sooner than later though. Getting hurt was par for the course in this job, especially for Faith. He had basic supplies in his first aid kit, but nothing like what he should have. What if she was injured and he couldn't take care of her? The Council would definitely not fund their journey, much less the two of them setting up shop in another state.

"You look like shit," she finally said, rubbing her stomach.

"Thank you for your assessment."

"No prob. Should probably look at your back," Faith commented as she finished the rest of her soda.

He didn't want to think about his back. If he didn't move, the pain was less severe. When they stopped for the night, he would clean out the wounds. For now, he would be able to handle it.

"I can survive. We need to put as much distance between us and our last stop."

He was being vague just in case someone was listening. The place was packed for lunch and he didn't want to draw any attention to them. Other than the occasional admiring look at Faith from the male of the species, no one paid them any mind. If luck was on their side, they would make good progress.

* * *

Chapter two: the plot thickens, or whatever the saying is. Please review!


	2. Your Timing is Way Off

Author note: Thanks for the feedback. Comments at the end. Thanks for reading everyone.

**Chapter Two—Your Timing is Way Off**

Paying the check, Faith made her way to the restroom while he took another sip of his coffee. As he started to rise, he noticed that his legs were wobbly. Making it to the restroom, he waited for Faith to exit. Holding on to the wall, he knocked on the door lightly.

Faith popped her head out, ready to complain about the knocking. When she saw that he was barely able to stand, she grabbed his arm and jerked him inside. Wesley looked at himself in the mirror, noticing that his face was white as a sheet.

"You don't look so good," she said as she took off his jacket.

The shirt did not come off that easily, obviously because of the dried blood. Faith attempted to clean out the wounds as much as she could, but he finally stopped her.

"We should go," he whispered.

They really didn't need the authorities asking questions about how he obtained the wounds on his back. Faith peaked out to make sure no one was waiting. When the coast was clear, she took his arm to lead him back to the motorcycle. Good luck that the rain had ceased while they were eating, but the roads would still be slick and more difficult to navigate.

Without words, Faith somehow got him onto the bike and out of there before someone commented on his lack of coherence. What seemed like hours later, Faith found another motel, this one looking a little more reputable than the last they had stayed. What he didn't realize was it hadn't even been twenty minutes after their lunch. Almost falling off the back had prompted the stopping for the day.

Faith quickly grabbed their duffels after procuring them a room key. Wesley looked at the lone bed in the middle of the small room and promptly collapsed in a heap, stomach side down. It took quite an effort just to turn his head to the side so he could actually breathe.

* * *

See, this was what she was talking about. Damn watcher went and got himself hurt. Not that it was any of his fault or anything. She should have been a little quicker on the uptake back at the Motel 8. Her spidey senses had started tingling long before Wes had exited the room that morning. Even with the rain flowing, she could almost smell the demon. She shook her head in amazement. In Sunnydale, she never had that much of a connection to be able to sense danger.

As she watched Wesley collapse on the bed, she contemplated just leaving him and hitching a ride to somewhere else. She didn't want this kind of responsibility, definitely not for another person. He did need her help though. Sighing, she decided that it would be better to at least make him comfortable and treat his wounds as best as she could before deciding on leaving him for good.

She managed to peel off his jacket without so much as a whimper from him. The shirt was a total loss, so she just ripped the thing down the back and tried to not hurt him as she took it off. His medkit didn't have what she thought he needed, so she grabbed his wallet, took a twenty, and headed off for the nearest store.

Faith was able to get stuff to clean out the wound with some snacks to boot. Gently pushing the door open, she noticed that Wes hadn't moved an inch since she left. At least he was still breathing, she thought. That's a good thing.

His back was hot to the touch as she inspected it further. She knew that the alcohol would hurt like a bitch, but she knew of no other thing that would clean it out better.

"Wesley, this is gonna hurt," she warned him as she poured a little on a washcloth.

He flinched a little was she dabbed at the cuts on his back. Taking the hydrogen peroxide, she poured that directly on his wounds. Then he did cry out, if only a little. Taking the antibiotic cream she had found in his medkit, she smeared his back as best she could. If he didn't move, she'd leave it uncovered for a while.

"That hurt," he moaned from his face plant in the sheets.

"I warned you, you big baby."

That got a little snort from him. She was able to get him to take some medicine to reduce the chance of a fever. The king-sized bed fit the both of them comfortably, so she bedded down next to him to catch some shut-eye. You never knew when you'd catch some sleep again, she surmised. Nice to be able to sleep comfortably without the chance of a vampire attacking you or someone wanting sex from you.

As she looked over at the sleeping form next to her, she studied her watcher's face as he rested. He really did look young for a watcher. She knew that he must be a lot older than she was, but damn did he look like a baby. Book smarts were nothing compared to street smarts in their line of work. Sure, she would need research from time to time, but having someone have your back was just as important. Could he handle it?

As soon as he got better, she'd train him. Yeah, she knew he'd not take to that easily because he thought he was in charge. Screw him. If they were going to survive intact, he'd have to learn how to fight. Decision made, she rolled over and got comfortable. That's the way it had to be.

* * *

Year: 2004

Wesley couldn't believe the gall of the man right before him. That he would walk into his place of business just raised his blood pressure. That he would still think that he would have a chance in convincing them it was the right thing to do was crazy. Wesley and Faith had ended up where they were supposed to be. To think otherwise was foolish.

His classroom was empty, thank goodness. Having to explain to any of his colleagues about the person sitting on his desk could have been a little awkward. Maybe this time Angel would slink back into the shadows instead of telling them what to do.

"You need to listen to me. Whatever you're doing here is just not as important."

Angel stood as Wesley put his briefcase down on his desk. He really did wish he had a stake handy.

"Not as important? Who do you think you are? Everything that Faith and I do here is just as important, possibly more important than anything you ever did in Los Angeles."

Angel looked surprised by that statement. "How did you…?"

"How did I know you had moved on to Los Angeles? There is a network of informants that gossip about these things. Your so-called work on the West Coast has generated quite the buzz here. Mostly from demons, mind you."

"You don't understand. The Oracles told me that this is not right."

"The Oracles? Who on earth are they?"

"Sort of like spokespeople for the Powers That Be."

Like that would impress Wesley in the least. Where were these so-called Powers when he and Faith needed help? Certainly not on their side.

"I just knew something was wrong. I consulted the Oracles. You have to understand. They're all dead."

Dead? Who might he be talking about? Now Wesley was a bit intrigued.

"Go on."

Angel hung his head down, like he was trying not to relive what had transpired.

"My whole crew. Cordelia, Buffy, Xander. Not sure how many others. The Hellmouth on Sunnydale is gone because the whole city was swallowed up."

That explained everything. Faith had been experiencing strange, sometimes disturbing dreams. He had put a theory forth that the Hellmouth in Cleveland was changing, possibly for the worse. That wasn't it at all. What did this all mean?

"Buffy wasn't supposed to die. I just know it. The Oracles told me that everything had been changed, by one event. I think I know what that event was."

It certainly couldn't have been anything they had done. The Hellmouth in Cleveland was active, but not that active. Surely he didn't know how to interpret what he had been told.

"Why would Faith and I have anything to do with this event?" Wesley declared, crossing his arms in defiance.

"It was exactly what you did that caused all of this. You two left Sunnydale. You weren't supposed to leave Sunnydale then."

Wesley took off his glasses to clean them, which gave him time to think. So they left Sunnydale before the big showdown. It had all ended well, from what he had surmised. He and Faith had established themselves in Cleveland. Things had been going smoothly.

"We left Sunnydale because there could not be two slayers operating in the same vicinity. It gave Faith a chance. Now you want to take that chance away?"

Angel shook his head no. "I don't want to take it away, but I have no choice. The Oracles said. They showed me the way it was supposed to be. "

"If that's all the evidence you have, then how in blazes did you think I would react? Going back to that time, not leaving Sunnydale when we did could be suicide for Faith and for myself. Did you ever think that this is the way things were supposed to turn out? Maybe it's all for the best."

Angel balled up his fists, walked over to the pulled shades and raised them in a flourish. Wesley prepared for Angel to go up in a poof of smoke and ashes, but it didn't happen.

"Oh dear God. How? You're a vampire."

"Not anymore."

* * *

Next: Why is Angel in Cleveland when he should have been in Los Angeles fighting a dragon? Why did everyone die instead of living after Sunnydale became no more? If this an Alternate Reality, does Angel have a right to ask for Wesley and Faith to go back in time and fix it the way he wants? Lots of questions.

Author notes: I want to thank the following people for reviewing so far: Hotpoint, Jinxgirl, Enfleurage, fuffylover, and RabidReject. It's nice to have Wes/Faith fans reading. RabidReject, sorry about the confusion. This Wesley and Faith are in their own timeline. Angel comes to ask them to screw it up. This is their reality for the moment. I will be jumping around in time throughout this fic. If you become confused, just ask. I do believe that Wesley really wasn't a prat. He was just showing off a little in front of Giles. I've been rewatching the first season of Angel and how well Wesley actually handled himself. I love that Wesley. I'll try to get another chapter out soon. I do have the story planned out in my head. I just hope that Wes and Faith don't hijack it like they've done before and make me crazy. Enjoy and review folks.


	3. Rats, Why Did It Have to Be Rats

**Chapter Three: Rats, Why Did It Have to be Rats**

Year: 1999

Wesley awoke, feeling a little better. Faith's nursing had worked. Now all he had to do was extricate himself from underneath her and he was home free. He realized that she had practically pinned him to the mattress while attempting to stretch his legs. As he moved, she moved with him. One of her legs was thrown over his while one of her arms was wrapped around his back, thankfully not touching the gouges. Oh dear, what did he do to get himself out of this potential mess?

Shifting ever so slightly, he thought if he worked his way slowly over to the side of the bed, he could make his legs touch the floor and be out of a bad situation. Faith moaned in her sleep, which stopped his progress. When she moaned again, this time more like a nightmare, he stilled.

She whimpered, pulling him tighter against her front. He sincerely hoped that she wasn't the kind of person who punched out in her sleep if she was confronted in her dreams. He didn't think he had it in him to move out of the way fast enough. The whimpering and moaning kept up for a while until Wesley had enough of her suffering and decided the best course of action would be to wake her.

Gently, he propped himself up on his elbow and pulled his other arm through so he could lie on his side. Instead of Faith whimpering, he let out a yelp of surprise as Faith attached herself to his front. That was not the outcome he had anticipated. Wesley squeezed her shoulder, hoping that she realized with who she was in bed and wouldn't slug him.

"Faith."

No response except for her now-steady breathing. At least she had stopped the noises. He said her name a few more times with no effect.

"Faith, it's time to rise and shine," he told her in a normal voice.

That got him a leg slung around him. She would most definitely kill him when she woke up. The only thing he could do now would be to get out of the situation as fast as possible. Only she was too strong and wouldn't let go. Her breath was warm against his shoulder, her leg around him making him even warmer all over.

"Faith, let go," he begged.

Faith's eyes opened, focused on how close the two of them were, making her immediately jump up and across to the other side of the bed.

"What the hell were you doing?"

"Trying to extricate myself from being tangled with you."

"Bullshit. You were copping a feel."

Faith tossed her hair, trying to get the tangles out of it. She finally gave up and plopped back down on the bed. Lying on her back, she shielded her eyes from the sun that had just started to peek through the curtains in the room that they shared.

"Next time, we ask if they have a room with two beds. You are way too touchy, feely for me."

Wesley sighed, knowing that if he argued with her, he certainly would not win this one. Propping himself up on one arm, he slowly dragged his body into a sitting position. While it hurt, at least he didn't have the feeling of almost passing out. If he had indeed been poisoned by the demon, he would have seen changes by now. Unfortunately, he had no idea what kind of demon they had encountered.

"I call shower," Faith exclaimed, getting up in record time and racing to the bathroom door.

He'd always have to take a shower of cold water as long as he associated with Faith.

* * *

They were so lucky that Wesley wasn't injured too badly. Faith itched to get back on the road. The sun shown clear and bright that day, which meant they'd make a lot of progress. Wesley still moved a little slowly, but he didn't seem sick, so all was good. Except for the fact that she woke up plastered to him. It must have been cold in the middle of the night was all she could think.

Making it to the next state, they didn't stop until nightfall. They'd have to travel farther the next day since their money was running out. If they had to, they'd find a place to bed down for free, but that was not ideal. Faith wanted a bed to sleep on, not some hard ground.

Cheap fast food was dinner, followed by the news back in the room. Dammit, she thought. Only one bed, yet again. She guessed that these rooms were a little cheaper. He'd just have to stay on his side of the bed this time or she'd kick him to the floor.

It wasn't like waking up next to him was the problem. The problem was waking up almost on top of him. And how the hell was she supposed to fatten him up and make him into a good Watcher if they didn't eat much and didn't have the time to slay? Cleveland needed to be right in front of them, right then and there.

When the money ran out a few days later, Wesley was able to get a little more out of his account. He confessed to her that there wasn't much left, so they'd have to make do with what they had left. If they had no money before they arrived in Cleveland, they wouldn't have a place to sleep. Sleeping on the ground when it started getting cold wasn't her favorite.

* * *

"Wow, what a dump," Faith declared when they walked in the door.

What did she expect? The Ritz Carlton? Indeed the place needed some serious work. It was a roof over their shoulders. Being located in a semi-industrial area hopefully wouldn't draw any suspicion to their activities while they were in Cleveland.

Faith looked around at the open space, kicked a few pieces of trash on the ground and sighed. He hadn't wanted to disappoint her. This endeavor would be a challenge for both of them. A place to train and to live had been at the top of his list. Thinking Faith would be comfortable anywhere, he had thought of himself first.

"With a little paint and elbow grease," he started.

"And a blow torch."

The windows did look to be nailed shut. He doubted that the plumbing would withstand too much stress. The roof was fairly new. There was that. As he looked over their surroundings, he noticed a rat scurrying away from their location. He'd have to make a list, then prioritize what to be done first.

"So where do we sleep?"

Good question, he mused. Most of his money was gone now, taken with renting this fire trap. They wouldn't have much extra on hand to make repairs.

"We'll make do," he announced.

Was he mistaken or did Faith look worried? Her faith, no pun intended, in his skills as a Watcher would be tested in the next few weeks. And possibly his skills as a handyman too.

After exploring the rest of the facility, Faith pointed out that the office could work as a makeshift sleeping area and living area, for the time being. It was small. He could deal with small, just as long as the two of them didn't have to live in it for very long.

"I must contact the council, explain to them our situation," he explained to her as they ate their meager meal on a leftover desk and two rickety chairs.

"They'll come running for sure," she answered with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Possibly to lock the two of us up for running. What? Are you crazy?"

Perhaps she had a point. If they asked for help, the Council could decide they were needed elsewhere. He could be dismissed as Faith's Watcher. Not a good plan, at least for the moment. Until they could stand on their own two feet, they'd keep a low profile and survive.

* * *

Year: 2004

Dealing with losses was always a part of the job. Wesley had thought he taught himself that mantra throughout his career as a Watcher. He and his charge were careful of getting too close to others, but over the years, they had come to rely on a few people. Angel didn't have that luxury any more. If vampires could have lines on their faces from worry, he definitely would have them.

Wesley found a place for Angel to bed down for the night and searched for Faith on the street after Angel had fallen asleep. He watched as she staked a vampire efficiently. No play for her tonight. Her stake immediately found its way into her belt, hopefully staying there for the night. As he approached, Faith rolled her eyes.

"You look so guilty."

Wesley spread his arms wide, thinking if he changed the subject, Faith would stay in a good mood.

"Why would I look guilty? I haven't done anything to be guilty."

Faith grinned at him, took his hand and roughly pulled him to her. It was best to play along when Faith was in this kind of mood. One never knew if she would kiss you or throw you over her shoulder. He had landed badly one too many times.

"Do we have to throw down here right now or are you going to tell me what's going on?"

The throw it is, he thought. He didn't think he could work up the courage to tell her, but he knew he had to do it. She'd never forgive him.

"Angel's back."

She pushed him away, making him stumble a little on the uneven ground. The sidewalk was bare of people and lighting, putting Faith in shadows. The half moon gave them little light by which to see. The stench from rotten food and other rotten things tickled at his nose, but Wesley did not want to distract Faith any more than necessary.

"Fuck. Did you throw him out?"

The question of the century. What did Faith think that he would do? He had informed her of his status earlier in the day. Her attitude wasn't the usual Faith one. She didn't care, she had said. Angel was bad history, plain and simple. They both had left that life behind eons ago, making her not want to relive it, ever. Angel had made some bad choices after they had left. What business is it of theirs to solve his problem?

It was his curiosity that had won out in the end. Wesley had hit the books on this one. Wesley knew, definitely knew without a doubt, that Angel was wrong. Their one act of defiance had not changed history. They were in the timeline in which they were meant to participate. Angel trying to change that history to the likings of some Oracles that he had met didn't mean they had to follow along blindly.

Only something was definitely wrong. Maybe it was just intuition, maybe it was the fact that some of his translations pointed in Angel's direction, that what Angel was saying could be correct, to a point.

There was one thing that Wesley believed with his whole heart: he and Faith were meant to be together, no matter what Angel might or might not say. It felt right, it was right. He would not change that for anything. He and Faith had built a life together. Angel would not come and change that. He would not come between them.

"You didn't. Asshole."

Dropping his chin down to his chest, he gave Faith a few moments to collect herself. Finally he glanced up, hoping that she was in a better mood. She wasn't. Her arms crossed over her chest meant that she was waiting for him to proceed. If he spoke now, she'd lash out again. When given time, Faith always came to her own conclusions, which in turn cooled her anger, if just a little. Well, almost always.

"You tucked him in and came out to play."

"It's not like that, Faith."

"Not like that," she screamed as she came forward. "Oh no. We are not going there again. Every single fucking time you try to save someone, this happens. You take them in, they fuck us over and then I have to clean up the mess."

"It's Angel."

"Well, la de fucking da. Do you think I care?"

Wesley was afraid that there was more to this than she was letting on. Usually she'd relent, help the helpless and get on with their lives. She looked to be too stubborn this time.

"Usually you do, in time. Why is it I'm thinking you don't want to this time?"

Faith circled him, throwing her arms up in defeat. "Ya got me, Wes. Maybe because…"

Faith knew something he did not. He wasn't sure how she knew, but she did.

"Because what Faith?"

Faith kept circling him, making him a bit dizzy trying to follow her path. He had to be on his toes around her when she was like this. What he wouldn't do for a vampire to stroll by or some demon attempting to hurt an innocent? Maybe himself? There were none. She had taken care of them before he had arrived.

"Nothing. Just nothing. I know you, trying to change the subject. This is a lost cause."

Oh how the lady doth protest too much. Stopping her circling motion, Wesley put his arm out and grabbed her. Instead of her throwing him to the ground, she went willingly into his arms. That did not bode well for what was happening. She was worried, worried enough that she leaned on him for support.

"What happened," he whispered into her hair.

"I just don't want him around. He just brings up so much crap."

Although he couldn't really see too much of her face, he could tell that her eyes were wide with fear. Fear of the unknown or the known, she'd tell him when she worked it out in her head. A curl blew around her face as they stood in each other arms. Serious moments with Faith were few and far between.

"He's right, isn't he?" Wesley blurted out finally.

Faith started to say something, then shut her mouth, looking away.

"I'm not gonna lose you."

* * *

Year: 1999

Faith didn't like rats. These things were as big as ponies. She'd endured rats like this living with her mother in hellholes of her childhood. She didn't want to relive that ever again. Being a slayer didn't make her immune to the fact that these things were gross and evil. Curling up on the table, she tried to get comfortable, hoping that they wouldn't crawl up onto the desk in the middle of the night.

They'd been in their crappy place now for a few weeks. Getting the lay of the land hadn't been easy. Wesley had finally found a job of all places, in a convenience store. A clerk, he had told her. He was still looking for a better job, but they had money to eat at least. His shift ended around two in the morning, then they'd go out and catch some bad guys. Until then, she'd wait and rest. Only she'd never rest until he walked through that door.

She spent her day training, her evenings reading. Sleeping was another story. She'd catch some shuteye during the day. The bastards, the rats, usually only came out at night. They kept all of their food in the refrigerator so it wouldn't attract them. Only they still kept coming. The exterminator had been by twice, but it didn't seem to help.

She was a slayer. So why in hell was she scared? Bullshit. She called bullshit. Being scared was bullshit. She had seen enough evil, enough scary things in her life already. Why did these things scare her even more?

Just as she drifted off, she heard scurrying in the corner. Dammit all to hell, maybe she'd have Wes teach her how to throw a knife. He seemed to be good at that.

Damn slayer dreams freaking her out. Or are they just nightmares? One giant rat chasing her down a corridor that never ended. If she told Wes, he'd probably laugh and tell her to forget about it. More scurrying in the corner had her on edge.

"Go away, dammit. I'm getting sick and tired of this," she screamed.

Wesley burst through the door, knife and gun in hand. Faith didn't have time to react, but tackled him, realizing a split second later that it was Wes. The gun went flying, the knife clattered to the ground and Wes cracked his head against the cold concrete.

"You scared the shit out of me," Faith cried, pinning Wes to the ground.

"Me? You were the one yelling," he screeched back, glasses askew.

Yelling? Oh, yeah, she was, but just to the rats. He thought she was in trouble so he came in ready to rumble. That made her feel a tiny bit better. And the fact that he was very warm since she hadn't been able to stop shivering made her a tiny bit better too.

Wesley cleared his throat, fixed his glasses, then tried to sit up with her still in place. He only made it to a sitting position, with Faith firmly attached. The lighting was dim, but Faith could tell that she was embarrassing him to no end.

"Faith, get up," he demanded.

Instead of going along with him this time, she lingered, hoping that her fun didn't screw things up between them. She liked how things were going, except for the sleeping arrangements. The rats could go to hell for all she cared. As she drew one finger down the side of his throat, she watched him swallow hard.

Jumping up, she stuck out her hand to help him up. He was stunned. Did he think she'd go further or that she was just playing? She'd have to push a little more next time. Taking her hand a few moments later, she noticed that his palm was a little sweaty. Damn, she hoped that he wasn't taking this too seriously. She was wicked bored. No TV to watch, only books to read. No one to talk to but him. She had to get her entertainment somehow.

As he stood directly in front of her, he didn't take his eyes away from her face. What, was she that hard to figure out? Or was there something else on his mind? She wasn't a freaking specimen to study, that's for sure.

"Duck," he yelled.

In slow motion, his arm extended, pushing her down as the knife went flying out, landing with a thud against the wall. Faith hadn't seen him pick the knife back up, but she was glad he had.

Swallowing hard, she turned to see that he had nailed a rat to the wall. When in hell had they learned to scale walls like that?

"Oh shit," she whispered. "That's not right."

"Indeed. We may have an infestation. Possibly why the rent was so cheap."

Damn slayer dreams.

* * *

Up next: Yeah, those slayer dreams. Poor Faith. Some choices are going to have to be made soon. Stay tuned.

Author notes: Thanks for the awesome reviews. Rapidreject, a2zmom, and fuffylover: y'all are terrific. Not trying to make Angel seem like a dick, but this is what he'd do in this situation. I think it would be. If anything, he can be a little driven when it comes to Buffy and his friends. A little shortsighted, but driven nonetheless. More of him in the next chapter, if he decides to make an appearance. Faith and Wes get settled in Cleveland too (the past). Read and review. I don't bite. Any questions, just ask. Thanks so much to all that are reading. I appreciate it.


	4. These Dreams Go On When I Close My Eyes

**Chapter Four—These Dreams Go On When I Close My Eyes**

1999

Rats weren't all that bad, he thought. Wesley definitely had lived with a few in his time when his father had been cruel to him and locked him away in the cellar, but they had never been this large. Or creepy.

Faith had clung to him a little while they explored the building for more rats, even squealing one time. Faith never squealed. Screaming obscenities was more her style. These creatures were really throwing her off. It must be stopped.

Wesley devised what he had termed a rat tracker. If they could find out where the nest was located, maybe they would be able to eliminate the little buggers once and for all. Faith's sleep patterns or lack thereof, were disturbing his. Her training was off, her slaying was off. If she didn't rest, then it did not bode well for their success out in the field.

It took some doing, but Wesley was finally able to create a spell that would magically tell them where the nest would be located, but only if it was in their building. As he set the ingredients down, he went over the spell once again, making sure he had the right measurements in the bowl. Luckily, there were blueprints of the building on file with the rental agency. All it would take would be a little chanting and with any luck, success.

Half way through his chanting, he noticed that Faith had entered the office, sweaty from her workout. She had readily agreed that something needed to be done, quickly. The bit of shaking in her voice clued him in that this was no ordinary occurrence. She was scared. He guessed that she could count the times she was scared on one hand, whereas he could most definitely fill a book on that count.

As he finished his preparations, he lit the contents of the bowl on fire to seal the spell into the mixture he had prepared. Jumping back a little, he felt to make sure his eyebrows were still in place as the flame flared. Guessing that this was probably a good sign all had worked, he gently touched the so-called sand that was left in the bottom of the bowl after the flame had dissipated. The sand was warm to the touch, but not too hot where he couldn't sift it through his fingers.

Spreading the blueprints out, he took a handful of sand and gently spread it across the whole page. Wherever there was a rat, the spot on the blueprint would light up. As simple as that, he thought. Only half the blueprint lit up. He had started with the lower level, the one below grade, thinking that would be a good starting point. He was correct, only he didn't want to be this correct.

"Um, don't tell me. We have a big ass rat's nest in the basement, don't we?"

"Very large, I'm afraid. Do you know how to operate a flamethrower?"

After checking the other three floors, he was happy to discover that the nest was indeed in the basement. If they eliminated the nest, then the rats would disperse, most likely to die quickly and quietly. He hoped. If the spell had been done correctly and they could destroy the nest with fire, all would be well again.

As they made plans, Wesley kept a close eye on Faith. She wasn't her usual jovial slaying self. Every time there was a strange noise, she would jump. He would have to get to the bottom of her fears before they confronted their unfriendly neighbor. This eviction needed to work efficiently. If they didn't eliminate the nest quickly, the rats could spread out of their building and into more of the city, setting up more nests.

Faith was staring at the blueprint he had used to locate the nest. Now was as good a time as ever, while she was thinking about strategy and possibly crushing her opponent. It seemed that his slayer needed a pep talk.

"Faith, we should come at the nest from here," Wesley started as he pointed out the direction in which he thought would best serve them.

"Yeah, right," she hesitated.

"If you have any thoughts on what we could do better, I'm more than willing to listen," he added, hoping that might get her to open up.

"Your plan is good."

She wasn't talking. Time for Plan B, the direct approach.

"We are not going into that basement until you tell me what in blazes is wrong with you."

Faith grabbed a handful of sand from the blueprint and threw it against the wall. The wall lit up like a Christmas tree, startling Faith even more.

"They're in the walls," she choked out. "They're everywhere. How are we gonna kill them all? Huh?"

Faith sharply turned his direction, pointing into his chest, hard. He'd probably sport a bruise there tomorrow, but that didn't matter. She was now talking, a little hysterically, but talking.

Calmly, he took the pointing hand in his and pushed it back, but not letting go.

"If we take out the nest, the rats will die quickly. It's almost like a queen bee."

"Oh my god, that's it. I don't think I can do this."

"You can and you will, Faith."

Faith visibly swallowed and shook her head no. His Plan B was evolving into Plan C, which was to order her to do as he said. Only she was stronger and faster than he was, so Plan C wasn't what he wanted to implement.

"Why?"

"Because that goddamn mother is going to chase me down that corridor outside this door and eat me alive, that's why."

That was not the answer he was expecting, but it did explain her hesitance in confronting the queen bee of the nest.

"It's not going to happen," he reassured her.

"How the hell do you know? I saw it, in my dreams. That huge thing was chasing me down the corridor. It was endless. I couldn't get away from it."

A slayer dream. Why hadn't he figured this out before? Since he hadn't had a chance to view her file closely before they had left Sunnydale, he didn't quite yet understand some of her abilities. Many slayers never had dreams about upcoming battles in which they participated. Faith must be sensitive to her dreams.

"Did the rat happen to catch you?" he asked quietly, trying to not startle her any more.

"No, but it was gonna. You don't know how long I ran. It seemed like forever."

Taking both her hands in his, he looked into her eyes, hoping and pleading that his theory was right.

"Where was I?"

"Don't know. Maybe the rat had already eaten you."

He grimaced a little at that thought. Mother Rat would not make him her dinner that night, that was for sure.

"I don't believe that your dream showed the outcome of our upcoming battle. I think trying to interpret your dreams as literal would be incorrect."

Faith reached up and touched his face, turning her head just slightly, like she was trying to study him. Letting go abruptly, she grabbed the flamethrower that he had placed near the door.

"Lock and load," she said as she checked the fuel tank. "Let's fry this bitch."

* * *

2005

"He's gone."

Thank you, Faith muttered to herself. Angel really did know how to bring a whole building down with just a look. He had hung out with them for a while, if a while is a whole year. He had tried to convince them that going back to LA with him was the right thing to do. At about the sixth month mark, he gave up, only bringing it up occasionally. She was just getting bored with his shit.

"Good, because he sure did eat a lot. I guess when you haven't eaten in two hundred years, all food is good food. I once caught him trying to eat something gross from the back of the frig. By the way, could you just clean the damn thing out once in a while?"

She was trying to lighten the mood, but the surly look on Wesley's face wasn't changing for the good. She knew of only one other way to put him in a good mood. With Angel gone, they had the place all to themselves.

Sliding in front of him, she propped herself up on top of his desk, hoping that he didn't have too many important papers or perhaps one of those sharp pens he liked to use wasn't directly behind her. She slowly dragged her leg up behind him as she pulled him forward.

"Never thought we could do this again. Guy was cramping my style," she whispered in his ear.

His shoulders slumped a little as she nibbled on his neck, when finally biting down a little harder got him to moan out loud as she did. That inspired him to sweep whatever was behind her off onto the floor with a crash. Man, was he easy.

As she cradled him in between her thighs, she reveled in the way she could set him off with just a look or a touch. Wrapping him around her little pinky, she set about making her his good mood would last, if just a little while.

At one point, they had made it up to the bedroom they shared for the last few years, settling down for a long, much deserved nap, snuggled up against his back. It had been snowing outside like mad, which meant going out would have to wait a little longer. She needed to get more work done on the computer, but the warm body next to her made her drowsy and content.

The dream started as they always did. Was she always running away from something? The Mayor, that big ass rat, a vampire or two, her mother, god did she have issues. Only she wasn't running away from something this time, she was running to something or someone.

The corridor was wide, full of paintings of evil beings and a little scary to boot. Faith didn't know why she needed to run, but knew if she didn't get those doors at the end open soon, someone would die. The double doors at the end looked large and impenetrable. As she reached them, she put her boots to breaking them open. It didn't take much effort, which was good since she was more than winded.

In all her dreams, Wes was never present. As they had analyzed her dreams in the past, both had figured that since it was she who was always battling the bad guy, he'd never appear in the dream. Only this dream was wrong. It was all about Wesley.

"Dumbass," Faith tried to scream before being slammed right against the wall directly behind her.

Every muscle, every bone in her body screamed out in pain as she slowly crumpled to the really fancy, slick floor. Wesley also fell to the ground. A great, big knife had caused that to happen to him.

Slowly crawling toward Wes, she watched as a creature in blue leather swung at the guy, the one who had stabbed Wes with that big knife, right across the head, sending him flying just like she had. Damn that thing must be strong, she thought.

She didn't make it to Wes before the blue thing did. That slayer strength hadn't returned yet, possibly because she had some broken bones to deal with, so the crawling was all she could do. The blood that covered the floor flowed out fast around Wes. He didn't have much time left if things were heading the way she thought they were. Faith had to get to him, somehow save him. That's what she did. She saved people.

Only the blue chick morphed into something almost human looking, scaring her a little more, and making her move as fast as she possibly could. She couldn't hear what the two of them were saying, but she kind of figured out whoever it was who was morphing knew Wes. She could only move so fast. Gathering as much strength as she could, she finally was able to pull herself to him and grabbed his hand. It was cold, too cold.

"Wesley, don't die," she was able to get out.

A short squeeze of the hand later, she felt it go limp as his eyes fluttered closed. The human who had his other hand had the look of murder in her eyes. If looks could kill, this chick could be dangerous and crush her with one blow.

He couldn't die. It couldn't happen. She was there to protect him, wasn't she? It was her job. Protecting her watcher was one of her most important jobs. He didn't quite understand her logic, but if her watcher went down, she couldn't slay, stay the slayer and be who she needed to be. The fact that she probably cared more about him than anyone in her life, past and present, also played into the not dying on his part.

"Wes," she cried.

The girl who was human turned back into that blue creature from before, standing to face the ugly guy who had taken her watcher away from her. Dreams weren't supposed to be real, but this one felt so real. She had thought the regaining her strength wouldn't happen, but as the light went out of Wesley's eyes, she was back at full. Standing up, she wiped her bloody hands on her jeans, and stood beside the blue creature.

"I wish to do violence," the blue creature announced.

Now that was something in which she could agree. Someone was gonna get fucked up. No one hurt her watcher. No one killed her watcher. She would be lost without him.

* * *

Author notes: Awesome reviews everyone. Thanks to new reader Noodle for reviewing. Let's just hope real life doesn't interfere with finishing this. I usually have more of the story written out by now. I'm going with the flow. At least I have an outline done. Thanks to a2zmom, fuffylover, Jinxgirl and everyone else who has reviewed and read this thing so far.

Up next: Angel's back, Faith's dreams are getting scary and Wesley makes a decision. Also, get more backstory to their lives in Cleveland. It may surprise you. Can't wait to see what these two have in store. Please read and enjoy! Thanks for reading everyone. Any questions? Please ask.


	5. Never Again

Author note: Wow, it's been a little while. I've had this sitting on my hard drive for months. I really want to finish this soon, so here it is. Please enjoy. Sorry about the long wait. Have fun!

Chapter Five: Never Again

2001

Faith paced outside the door, hoping that the outcome was going to be in her favor. When had it ever? Well, after leaving Sunnydale, a few things had gone her way. Why wouldn't this? Because she'd felt like an idiot doing this. Wes at first had been skeptical, then had helped her in her task with gusto. Just like in slaying demons, he was an excellent teacher. So much so, he'd gained a job as an adjunct professor at a local small college. It wasn't much, but it paid more of the bills.

What was taking them so long? Did she do something wrong? Was she really worth it? A few others wandered around, tense. She felt ready to explode if they didn't open that damn door right that instant. Just as she thought to bang against the door, out came the woman with the answers. She could have gotten the message by mail, but thought that this was the easiest way to hear her results.

The woman tacked the piece of paper up on the bulletin board, then hurried away, obviously distracted by something other than Faith's whole life at stake. The others that were standing with her walked over to the bulletin board. A few sighed, a few cheered. Once they were gone, Faith inched over.

She'd memorized her test number a billion times so she wouldn't look at someone else's results. Taking her finger, she scanned the long list, finally finding her number amongst so many others.

She couldn't breathe. The numbers all blurred together until that moment of clarity struck her. She'd passed, with flying colors. Wes had told her that she would pass. And it didn't matter by how much, he had said to her as she had hurried out the door early that morning. No one would ask her what she had gotten on the test; they just wanted to know if she had passed.

Earning her high school degree had taken months, but she'd put in the time and effort and it had paid off. Now she could actually go to college, and afterward earn some serious money. Serious money meant paying for food and clothing and shelter. Not much else in her book mattered. She wouldn't be relying on Wes or any other man to pay her way.

"Yes," she said as she grinned from ear to ear. She was on her way.

Since they had posted the test results at 8:30am sharp, Faith made good time skipping back to the warehouse, arriving in time before Wes was off to his job. Only he was already gone. That bummed her a little, but she'd show up after his class and surprise him.

Running up the stairs to change, she didn't notice the person standing in the shadows until she'd almost slammed into him. Stopping short, she turned her head to say something, only to feel a sting in her neck. Swatting at it, her vision became blurry. Before she had time to turn and run, her legs gave out. Fighting whatever drug she must have been injected, her arms struck out against her assailant in the shadows. He managed to duck the first arm, but not the second.

"Come on, Faith. That's not the way to treat your employer."

Dammit, where was Wesley? Her mind screamed that he would have taken care of these jerks. She was the slayer, Buffy be damned. Why were they hassling her? She was doing her job.

The jerk had her in a bear hug faster than she could move. His breath on her neck was warm and stank of beer and garlic. Maybe if she upchucked on him, he'd put her down. Connecting her head with his, he dropped her with a howl. Faith managed to stagger out the door and down the stairs without breaking a bone.

The morning light was too bright, hurting her eyes. Shielding them, she finally did throw up the contents of her stomach. That did not make her feel any better. The bum down the street didn't pay much attention to her. He'd probably seen it many times with all the junkies around the neighborhood. What she wouldn't give for a noisy neighbor right at that moment.

Her legs were like rubber, but if she didn't move, the damn Watchers' Council goon would have her. Wes would never know what happened. Their contact with the organization had been nil. The two of them had basically forgotten that this entity had existed. Now with Faith back on their radar, how would they be able to operate and do the job?

As luck would have it, they lived near a bus stop. Faith took that bus everywhere, so she knew she'd be able to navigate getting there, even in her woozy state. The bus driver was friendly with her, almost motherly.

Faith staggered on, sitting right behind the driver, who everyone affectionately referred to as Ma.

"Faith, hon. You look like hell."

Ma didn't take her eyes off the road, but the hint of concern in her voice made Faith feel a little bit better. When Ma slammed on her brakes and let out a curse, Faith chuckled a little. That chuckle died when her assailant from the warehouse strode onto the front of the bus.

Shit and double shit, when would she catch a break? She didn't want Ma getting hurt or any of the other regulars that she had noticed when she stumbled onto the bus. Her ribs hurt from the Council goon's bear hug, her head was ready to explode and her strength was nothing. How was she supposed to protect these people and get away clean from him?

"I don't know who in hell you think you are buddy, but you don't ever," Ma voiced as she got up from her seat.

Faith almost cheered the older woman on, but then thought better. If the goon had a weapon, he just might use it. It was time to end this, she thought bitterly. Only she didn't have the strength to do it.

"Back off, bitch," he said as he cornered Faith in her seat.

A few of the other regulars were up off their seats too, heading toward the front. Faith always sat at the back with the other regulars shooting the breeze. They were all working folks, all really nice. If they knew what she was, they might not be so welcoming. Or they might love her for ridding the neighborhood of the scum. It really was a lot safer out on the streets at night with her patrolling.

Faith growled as the goon approached, hoping against hope that her slayer powers would return and she'd wipe the pavement onto his face in record time.

"Why don't you say we exit this bus and have that chat we were going to have."

"Hey, you just better not hurt that girl," one of the passengers piped up.

Faith had nicknamed all the regulars by now. Gentle Jim was one of them, but he didn't look gentle at all. He was all arms and muscle. He didn't say much on the bus, but he was always there to help anyone out in need, especially the elderly ladies who needed assistance on and off the bus. Wes was even a little wary of him until one day they had a long discussion about some poet. Both missed their stops because of this.

The stabbing pain in her neck hadn't lessened that much. She just hoped that she didn't start drooling, which was a distinct possibility with her control slipping. Her eyes watered, making it even more difficult to see what the hell was going on. Ma had taken position directly in front of her, with Gentle Jim coming up on her right side.

One of the other regulars had taken off and run down the open door at the middle of the bus. Either she was scared away or was going for help. Faith hoped it was help because she spotted a gun tucked under the guy's jacket as she wiped her eyes to clear them.

"What makes you think she wants to talk to you?" Ma shot back.

"We go way back," the goon answered.

Faith snorted, knowing that she'd never met this jerk before.

"Hello, Mrs. Pearson. What might be the trouble?"

Now her day just kept getting worse. Didn't he head off to work? She didn't need him in the line of fire too in addition to Ma and Jim. The goon turned and grinned at the newcomer. Now he just might use that gun he had been packing.

"I think he hurt Faith," Ma informed Wesley.

Shit, she was getting tired of him saving her. Yeah, he was her backup. Now she'd owe him big time, that is if they got out of this one.

"Tell you what, Mr. Teasdale, I think it is. I suggest you turn around and walk off the bus right this instant."

The tone of Wesley's voice kind of scared her too. The dumbass who was Teasdale wasn't so scared of his scary voice. Ooh, if he knew what Wes could do when angry.

"Pryce, this is none of your concern any more. The girl comes with me."

Oh fuck no, that is not going to happen. Once the Council got their hands on her, she wouldn't come out alive.

"Did you really think that you could just take her?"

Wesley looked to be a foot taller than the dumbass. She just hoped that Wes ended this sooner than later because her neck felt like it was just about to separate from the rest of her body. Something burned in her veins, down the left side of her body now. Her hand had gone numb, with her hip now feeling tingly. If they didn't find out what the jerk had shot her up with, she might not be able to recover.

"Ain't nobody getting hurt on my bus," Ma interjected.

Jim had maneuvered himself on the other side of Teasdale now. A few of the others had taken positions behind him. In the distance, she could hear sirens approaching. The timid girl who always sat near the door every day had called the cops. Good for her, Faith thought. Ma hadn't had time to call it in, or Faith hadn't noticed if she had.

"I agree, Mrs. Pearson. Don't you agree, Teasdale?"

Teasdale looked around a little nervously, sneering Faith's way.

"She's not worth it, you know."

Wesley's hand shot out, coming around Teasdale's throat, constricting the airflow quickly. Teasdale fumbled underneath his jacket, but Jim had his arms pinned before he could pull the gun. Faith sighed in relief.

"May I suggest a course of action for you, Teasdale? Don't ever come near her again, because if you do, you will not like the consequences. Understand me?"

Teasdale was turning a little blue from lack of air. The cops' sirens were on top of them now, two cars with lights flashing. Faith thought that Wes wouldn't let Teasdale get caught, but that didn't happen. The cops entered the bus guns drawn. One of them knew Jim on sight thank goodness. The cops had Teasdale cuffed and put into a squad car faster than Faith could blink.

When one of the cops tried to get her to explain what happened, she did finally drool a little. The ambulance that was called shortly after took her and Wes to the nearest emergency room. Her stomach was pumped and blood monitored. They had no idea what Teasdale had injected into her bloodstream.

Wes didn't say much as the doctors worked on her. The stomach pumping and drugs that they gave her didn't do a damn thing to give her the slayer powers back that the injection had taken away. As she looked into Wesley's eyes as he sat across the room, it finally dawned on her. He knew exactly what Teasdale had injected in her neck. If she could have screamed at him, she would have.

Finally, Faith's blurry vision had disappeared. She was still a bit stumbly, but the doctors released her, telling her if she wasn't feeling any better in the morning, she should come back to be checked out.

In the back of the taxi, Wes kept his distance from her. Any other time, he wouldn't have kept his hands off her, making sure she was comfortable, helping, being concerned. He did help her out of the car though, which gave her hope. His nervousness made her feel even more nervous. Did Teasdale operate alone or were there others?

The alarm system that Wes had insisted on installing a few months before chirped as they arrived. He immediately set it and then scanned each room to make sure there weren't any other surprises in store for them. Faith settled down on the sofa in their makeshift living room, propping her feet up. Sighing, she closed her eyes, wishing that the whole day would just reboot.

Wes cleared his throat as he re-entered the room. Here goes, she thought to herself. He knew exactly what was going on. The bombshell was now going to be dropped and she'd be kicked to the curb once again. The dull throb in her neck pounded anew as her blood went into overdrive. Was now one of those fight or flight instances? Would he turn on her? Not like she could put up much of a fight.

Opening her eyes, she gave him her best glare, hoping that he was seeing daggers shoot his way. If he had actually told those doctors how to treat her, she would have been grateful. A little ticked, but grateful.

"Wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?"

Wesley sat opposite of her in a rickety chair. She remembered the exact day she had found that treasure in an alley not too far from the warehouse. She had been so proud of herself for her scavenging skills. Wes had burst out laughing when she promptly fell to her butt when one of the legs had given way. He had sort of fixed it just to make her happy. No one ever sat in it. It usually held mail or a dirty towel. Now it held his sorry butt. And she wasn't laughing.

"Did he hurt you?"

"Now you ask? What the fuck is your problem?"

She knew she sounded a bit screechy, but this was her life that was almost ended here. He could have asked her that question a few hours ago too. Bastard.

"I'm sorry," he answered, like it was his fault this had happened.

"Was this your fault? Because if it was, so help me I will kick your ass when I feel better."

Wesley stood and spread his arms wide, like he wanted her to right then. Crap, what the hell had happened to him? She thought she knew him. She had come to care for him. They had gotten close, well not that close, but close. He was her watcher.

"I do admit that I may have screwed up royally. I was never one to follow standard procedure."

Limbs shaking, Faith stood to confront him. She couldn't kick his ass, but she could make him feel mighty guilty that he possibly caused her to disappear without a trace.

"Standard procedure? Speak English. What the fuck did you do?"

She really hated it sometimes that he was so much taller than she was. Craning her neck back, she realized that he couldn't find the right words. How was she supposed to find the words when she didn't know what in hell was going on?

"There were several milestones that a slayer must perform before becoming a full-fledged slayer."

"I slay demons. How more full-fledged could I become?"

If she had the strength, she would have decked him. Watching him mentally beat up on himself was enough for that moment. She'd wait until later to give him a shiner.

"On your eighteenth birthday, you were supposed to lose your powers for two days, to show you that you could defeat your enemy even without the slayer strength that you possess. I bypassed that and several other rituals. I am truly sorry for that. I did think that they were outdated and not of any use."

Lose her strength just to prove to herself that she could be a slayer? What was with these dudes wanting to mess with her head?

"So in a day or so, I'll be back to normal? Because when I am, it's not going to be pretty."

Wes smiled a little at that, and then frowned back at her, realizing that she was directing that threat to him and him only.

"Yes, you will be back to normal. I've contacted the Council. Teasdale was on his own. He was not sanctioned by the Council."

Faith almost didn't have enough strength to stand, but she did, trying to say to him that she wouldn't be brought down by some dumbass Council goon.

"He went fucking rogue to do what? Get his own slayer? What, does this drug make you bond with your Watcher or something sick, because I don't do shit like that."

"I can assure you that those practices went out of favor a long time ago."

Faith had just enough energy to tap him on the arm before she collapsed into them. She so didn't want to hear how slayers and Watchers bonded in past history. It was bad enough that she had erotic dreams about him every other night. She definitely didn't want him knowing about those.

Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to her room up two flights of stairs. By the time he made it to the fourth floor, he was panting a little. Served him right, she thought as his arms tightened around her.

"Don't you dare drop me."

"Never, Faith. You're as light as a feather," he answered, dripping with sarcasm.

Slowly sliding out of his arms, she felt the heat of him burn through her thin shirt. It had turned chilly in the early morning hours. They hadn't turned on the heat yet because they were on a very tight budget. The blankets on her bed usually provided her with enough warmth until the sun came up.

His hands lingered on her waist as he led her to her bed. She didn't have much else in her room other than a small dresser and table next to her bed to hold a lamp. This wasn't a room in which she spent much time. Sleep was always a luxury in their lives. And she didn't have a boyfriend, so the sheets were never messed up.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want you hurt," he whispered in her ear.

"Some bastard going rogue isn't your fault. Is there something else that you're worried about?"

He flinched with that. She could read him like a book.

"They want us back in the fold, Faith. The Council. I told them I'd have to discuss it with you."

Faith's mind spun out of control. The two of them had been on their own for so long. Why should they trust those bozos again?

"If they didn't like your training methods, what makes you think they'd let you stay my Watcher?"

The fire in his eyes told her everything. He'd never give her up willingly. Obviously there had been some discussion on his methods or Teasdale wouldn't have shown up at their doorstep. The hands encircling her waist, holding her up, tightened ever so slightly. Those fingertips branded her as his. She never thought he could go all caveman on her. If she wasn't ill, she'd throw him down on the comforter and show him how much she appreciated the sentiment.

"I will always be your Watcher, Faith. Remember that."

Geez, now if that didn't send chills down her spine, nothing would. Romance novels had nothing on this guy. Except for the fact that he was kind of dorky acting and hit the books too often.

"Fix me a grilled cheese?" she smiled up at him, hoping to break the ice on their long day.

He smiled back, giving her a peck on the forehead. What she wouldn't do for that to be lower, but she'd take what she could get. Only he wasn't letting go. He stared at her long and hard, like he was trying to memorize her face in that moment. That spooked her.

"Ok," she prompted.

"It's nothing. I didn't want to lose you today."

"Well, you didn't. And I passed my test."

Wesley picked her up and spun her around, making her dizzy.

"I told you. Don't underestimate yourself, Faith."

Sliding down his body, more chill bumps broke out on her arms, but not from the cold.

* * *

2005

"Is he OK?"

"Stable."

Damnit all to hell and back. Faith hadn't been there when Wes needed her the most. He almost got himself killed. What in hell was he doing, going off and getting himself hurt?

Angel stood not two feet from her, back up against the wall, arms folded tight against his body. He frowned her way and shook his head.

"This isn't turning out the way I thought it would."

"Excuse me?" Faith asked.

Angel had reappeared yet again, this time urgent about the need to go to Los Angeles. He seemed to be looking over his shoulder every other minute, looking for danger where there didn't seem to be any. And now this.

"He's here. This wasn't supposed to happen."

"Who? And if you don't tell me right now, I am going to throw you through that window." Never mind that they were at least three stories up.

The last few days had been stressful to say the least. Angel showing up, a new player in town and now Wes was hurting. If Angel brought trouble to her town, he was going to pay for it.

"The guy who is responsible for hurting Wes. It's gotta be the same guy. I just don't know."

Faith knew she couldn't intimidate Angel with her size. He was human now though. Maybe violence might work. Getting right up to his ear, Faith grimaced, hoping that he'd get a clue and tell her the whole story.

"You tell me what the fuck is going on right now or you're going through that window. Three stories for just a human is a long way down."

Only Angel was not intimidated by her threat. He turned his head, making them inches away from each other. A long time ago, him being so close to her would send a chill down her spine. Angel was something when he was a vampire. If Buffy hadn't gotten to him, Faith definitely would have pounced on him. It was not meant to be though. Buffy had won his heart and in time had broken it too.

"Faith, no matter what we do or say, what is going to happen is going to happen. We can't stop it. No matter what time period we are in."

Grabbing his throat, Faith cut off his air supply with just a squeeze. Angel flinched, grabbing the offending arm to hopefully get it off his neck. She wasn't budging. She was tired of his games. Answers.

"You tell me one more time that what I do doesn't matter, I might just snap your neck. Now I'm going in to see my watcher. When I come back out here, I want you gone."

Releasing him, Angel slumped against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Faith could see the two deep red spots on his neck where she had held him. Now hopefully he'd get a clue and leave them alone.

As she started to walk away, Angel grabbed her arm, making her stop in her tracks. Did he ever learn?

"Faith, he's going to die in this timeline, just as he did in the timeline where I came from."

What the fuck was he talking about? She knew of his obsession with different timelines. Now he's claiming he's from somewhere else? When did this ever make sense?

* * *

Author note: Freaky right now doesn't even describe it for Faith. She really does need to figure out who to trust and what to do with this new information. Yikes.


	6. Life As We Know It

**Chapter Six—Life As We Know It**

Die? We all died, mostly sooner rather than later. Wesley had heard too much from the door that was ajar to his room. His neck hurt, his wrists hurt, hell, even his back hurt from being subdued by several henchmen. It was the timeline word that intrigued him.

Angel knew something that neither one of them knew. He would never open up to them, even while drunk. Wesley knew that because he'd tried once. All Angel would say to him was "I really need for you to go to Los Angeles and fix something for me".

Faith knew more than she was telling also. He saw her demeanor every day, saw how she was pulling away from him inch by inch. The subtly with which she had managed that escaped him until now. She knew exactly what was happening, but didn't want to share.

Slowly, Wesley maneuvered himself up into a sitting position, keeping his groans to a minimum. If he wanted to hear the whole story, then he'd have to eavesdrop instead of ask. His life possibly depended on finding out the answers to the secrecy, to maybe why he was attacked in broad daylight.

Only what he saw when he peeked through the door devastated him. Faith was in Angel's arms, head on his shoulder, arms around his middle. She'd been so angry with Angel, so willing for him to leave their lives. Now she was in his arms. He watched as she inched out of Angel's arms, still holding onto his hands, like they were sharing an intimacy that the two of them had shared many times. Angel's large hand came up to cup Faith's chin.

"We'll figure this out together," Angel told her.

What? Figure what out together? How to get rid of him? No, he couldn't believe that the two of them wanted him dead. Out of their lives, possibly. But dead?

"He'll die," Faith answered back.

Me, die? Did she say that like she wanted him to die or that he may die? Looking around the room, Wesley noticed his pants sitting on a chair, along with his tattered shirt and shoes on the ground. The nurse had told him that the hospital was going to release him the next morning if he felt up to it. Leaving now would probably be a better course of action. It would be better to escape without Faith or Angel knowing.

As he quickly got dressed, he managed to not pass out from the pain. His back almost seized up, but in the end he knew it would be better to flee now than to stay where he was. He needed time to think, to plan, to research what in hell happened earlier that day.

The men that attacked him knew exactly who he was. They knew that Faith would not be there to save him, knew the route that he traveled every day. Of course, the only reason why he had ascertained that information was they had told him so. Bad guys often tell one things when they think they've won and that you were going to die.

Of course, they hadn't counted on several of the neighborhood boys seeing what had happened. There were boys that he had tutored in everything from Math to Philosophy. Their mothers had been grateful for the help and they had been grateful for the self defense lessons that Faith had provided too.

The two ruffians had literally beaten the stuffing out of him before being confronted by a half dozen of the boys. They ranged in age from thirteen to seventeen. Before he could get up to help them out, the so-called bad guys had taken off sporting their own black eyes and bruised egos. To be bested by children probably wouldn't sit well with them. They'd be back for him.

Now possibly worrying about what part Angel and Faith played in today's events had him hurrying. Could he get out of there without anyone seeing? Peeking out the door again, Faith and Angel were nowhere to be seen. As quietly as he could, he made for the stairs that weren't too far from his room. Walking down them had him gasping for breath, and not because he was out of shape. Being kicked in the chest a few times caused that pain.

He'd have to make it back to the warehouse before Faith and Angel, somehow gather what he could and leave as quickly as possible. The less they knew about his whereabouts the better. He could just ask Faith what was going on. That could be the simpler way. The two of them never did simple. Their lives were too complicated, too intertwined to ever be simple.

* * *

2002

Wesley couldn't believe his eyes. It was shocking to say the least. Taking his glasses off and wiping them, he replaced them just to make sure what he was seeing was true. Faith never did make his life simple. Complicated wasn't even in the realm of possibilities. Sometimes she just downright pissed him off, just to get a reaction.

Well, if this was what she wanted, she certainly was going to get a reaction from him. As the man beside her kissed her cheek, Wesley's blood boiled. Did she think it was wise to keep such a thing from him? Her very life could depend upon him knowing her whereabouts, him knowing with whom she associated. It was just happenstance that he was walking by when he looked in the restaurant.

A man was hugging her, hugging her very intimately he might add. They held hands. Faith smiled up at him. She had never smiled at him like that. They had never even gone out to dinner. He didn't count the greasy diner down the street from them to be "going out to dinner".

Wesley's heart sank. He knew that he never had even the remotest of a shot with Faith, nor should he. He was her watcher, plain and simple. She trusted him with her life and vice versa. That didn't mean that she had to trust him with every little detail of her life. She had the right to a normal existence outside of slaying. Faith had tried to build a life outside of slaying, attending college, getting a degree in computer science.

But he had always considered what she was doing a cover story, just as his life in the daylight to be a cover story. They were put on the earth to destroy evil and protect innocent people from the bad that crawled out of the Hellmouth. Jealousy had nothing to do with their mission. That's why he needed to dismiss it right then and there from his mind.

As he walked back to the bus stop, he tried as hard as he could to do just that. It wasn't working. The jealousy was still there. He wasn't jealous because he cared about her in that way, he was jealous because she did have a life outside of slaying. She thought about other things other than slaying. She studied, she socialized with her peers, she joked around with the neighbors. He researched, worked and helped her train. That was it.

A few times he'd wanted to ask a young lady out on a date, then remembered that his first duty was to Faith and their mission. Not that there had been many young ladies to ask out.

"Hey, Wes," shook him out of his thoughts as he took his keys out of his pocket to unlock his door.

Sweet Madeline from across the street waved to him, prompting him to wave back. She was an artist who actually owned the building across the way. Her efforts to clean up the neighborhood and revitalize it had done wonders for the demeanor of everyone around for miles, not to mention that meant that their work as slayer/watcher had been made just a little easier. Everyone noticed if someone unfamiliar entered their neck of the woods. That meant that he and Faith had to travel farther from their homebase to hunt down evil.

"Hello, Madeline," he called back.

No one could not be cheerful around her. This woman bubbled personality. She and Faith got along swimmingly, while Wesley was sometimes tongue-tied, not knowing what to say to her. To say that she was beautiful was an understatement. Her big, inviting smile drew people in, making them want to stay for more. Her ex-husband, the cop on the block as people called him, told Wesley once that her smile was the first thing that drew him to her, but to watch out because she had claws. No one messed with her or her family.

Her tight curls bounced as she made it across the street. The sun was just setting off in the distance, giving the night a slightly red glow to the horizon over the buildings.

"Sammy's having piano lessons right now. I had to get out of there. It was driving me crazy. It's like fingernails on a blackboard."

Sammy. The cute, mostly precocious son of Madeline. Eight years old going on thirty-eight. The things that kid could do and see would scare many adults twice his age. The fact that Sammy knew about Faith's slaying wasn't the only thing he had discovered. Luckily he had either neglected to tell his mother about that for fear that he'd be grounded for life for being out so late, or he just liked the fact that he had a secret that the rest of the neighborhood didn't know. Wesley was just glad no one else knew. He'd hate for their cover to be blown.

"Why on earth do you continue with them?"

"Because Mrs. Skilovsky would never let him quit. She still thinks that she can make him into a piano player. Never gonna happen."

Mrs. Skilovsky also knew that Sammy's grandfather was an excellent piano player among other instruments that he played over his lifetime. Madeline had inherited his talent of being quite good at something, which was painting. Nevertheless Sammy was never going to be a musician and the jury was still out whether he could paint. Being a lawyer might better suit the little sneak.

"Had dinner yet?" Madeline asked as Wesley turned to put the key in the door.

"As a matter of fact, I have not. I was working late."

Madeline stood where she was, looking at him like he was supposed to ask her something next. Did she really want to have dinner with him? She was beautiful, successful, a mother, a neighborhood leader. He was just a college instructor who talked a good game.

"You really are clueless, aren't you? Faith told me you were. I didn't believe her."

Faith. He had actually forgotten about her while he looked into Madeline's brown eyes. She grinned at him as he gathered his courage to do something he hadn't done in ages.

"We could order Chinese," he finally responded.

"Sounds great. Let me go get Sammy and we'll be right over."

Madeline turned and strolled across the street, waving slightly as she entered her building. He just made a date with the hot girl across the street. Would Faith be angry with him? Why in hell did he care?

Twenty minutes later, Madeline showed up with Sammy in tow. Wesley noticed that he had grabbed a few toys and a book, along with a video. Maybe the grownups would actually get to talk. With Sammy around, Wesley never did get much in the way of conversation.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite white person."

Sammy had joked one day that Wesley was so pale that people might think he had a skin condition or something. Spending all his days inside a college building and then spending all his free time helping Faith slay monsters, of course he never had time to see the sun. From that day on, Sammy had made it his mission to make Wesley get out in the sun. The first time they had done it by going to the park, Wesley had gotten terrible sunburn on his arms and face. So much for relaxing in the sun.

"He didn't mean that," Madeline countered, scowling at her son.

"Oh he did. He's right. But we are trying to add some color, aren't we?"

Sammy gave him a thumbs up then asked him what was for dinner. The small Chinese restaurant down the street delivered, so it didn't take long for them to have a feast set before them. Wesley didn't realize how hungry he was, trying to think when he had last eaten. He guessed that the donut he had downed early in the morning really didn't count as food.

Sammy talked and talked, until finally Madeline set him up in the living area space, turned the television on, and told him that she needed some adult time. He whined a little until she crossed her arms and glared.

"Yeah, adult time. I'll watch Law and Order or something."

"You will not."

The two of them finally agreed on a show that was appropriate for an eight year old. By that time, Wesley had cleared the plates and washed up.

"I was going to help," Madeline offered.

"That's fine. Your company is greatly appreciated. I'm not sure when Faith is going to be back. I do believe she had a date, but I'm not sure."

"Really," Madeline exclaimed. "She kind of hinted the other day."

Wesley turned to put away the rest of the dishes in their galley style kitchen. Salvaging old cabinets, they had been able to make a decent, but small kitchen. As he turned to put another dish away, Madeline was directly in his path. She scooted around him as he finished up.

"Busy today?" she inquired as he dried his hands.

"I was grading tests. Either the students knew the material perfectly or they utterly failed. I'm still not sure whether I'm cut out to be a teacher."

He was teaching students the same age as Faith was. As a matter of course, Faith was attending the college in which he taught. Their cover story was the two of them were distant cousins, he taking care of her after her mother had passed on. The story had a bit of truth to it, he had to say. No one suspected that they had nighttime activities and they could be seen together without suspicion.

"Faith says you're a great teacher. Give it some time."

Wesley wanted to put her out of his mind right then and there, but Madeline kept bringing her up. To change the subject, he decided not to be so tongue-tied and ask her a few questions.

"How is your painting coming along?" Now that sounded a bit trite in his mind, but he couldn't think of anything else to ask.

"I have a few commissions. It pays the bills. Doing OK. I have a few things cooking too. I think I may have a gallery owner interested in a show for my work."

"That's great news," he responded while he tried to keep himself busy.

Madeline's perfume was quite distracting, making him fumble the tea that he was attempting to put on to boil. He bent down as she bent down, making them crack heads. Both exclaimed their ow's at the same time.

"I am so sorry, Madeline."

"Hey, no harm. You have a hard head, mister."

Faith had told him that many times over the course of their years together. Stop, he said to himself.

"Let me see," he asked, concerned that he had hurt her.

Brushing her curls back, he couldn't see any red spots on her forehead. Placing a kiss on the spot where he thought they had connected, he drew back wide-eyed. Had he just ruined it with her?

Madeline grinned up at him, grabbed his shirt and pulled him close. Her lips were soft and inviting, nothing like Faith's at all. Pulling away, he noticed that Madeline still had her eyes closed. Could he possibly be that ugly for her to close her eyes?

"Don't tell me that you're done?"

She wanted more? Slowly he descended, carefully touching her again. It wasn't until he came up for air that he noticed they had a visitor. And it wasn't Sammy. He'd seen Faith out of the corner of his eye. She was fast, but not fast enough. He was sure that Madeline hadn't seen her.

They spent the rest of the evening on the sofa, sometimes with Sammy in between them, sometimes holding hands while Sammy played with the toys he had brought. Wesley walked her home like a gentleman should, shaking Sammy's hand and kissing Madeline's. She winked at him as she closed the door. Other than Faith showing up at the wrong moment, his night had gone better than expected.

As he came back into the living area, Faith threw her bag at him and said "Let's roll."

"Roll to where?"

She stopped in her tracks, turned and crossed her arms over her chest. She was angry, more than angry with him. If he threw in the fact that he saw her with another man in her face right then, he might end up with more bruises than he wanted. If he didn't explain about Madeline, it might happen anyway. Wesley had decided that very night that the two of them needed to live their lives completely.

"Vamps' nest, over on the west side."

"Faith, is there something wrong?" he asked, knowing full well what was wrong.

"Now that you're done playing kissy kissy, maybe we can get some work done around here."

Jealousy was a two way street. Maybe he would have to bring up her date after all.

Faith used her energy up on slaying six vampires. Wesley felt he wasn't needed in the least. Her anger was appeased somewhat because she didn't glare at him as much as she had before.

"You better be nice to her," she finally said as they made their way back to the warehouse district.

"Nice? When have I not been nice? I'm a nice person. Well, nice to other people. When it comes to the bad guys, I'm not so nice."

Babbling would get him nowhere fast. Faith hated it when he babbled. He was nervous. She was pissed. Not a good combination.

"Men are jerks in general. That includes you."

That statement clued him into her angry mood. Her date must not have gone as well as his had.

"They just want to hold hands, talk, be nice," Faith added as they entered the living area.

"I thought you wanted us to be nice."

Faith slammed her bag down forcefully. "Did I say I wanted men to be nice? Did I say all I wanted was to hold hands?"

Wesley really didn't understand women in the least. Madeline had definitely wanted to hold hands. If Sammy hadn't been in residence, he thought she'd probably have wanted to kiss him some more, but he was just speculating.

"Faith, would you like to start from the beginning? I'm not sure to what you're referring?"

"I need to hit something. Do you know how long it's been? Do you?"

Faith's face was beet red from exertion. Or was it anger? He still didn't get it.

"Long it's been since what?" he answered back, voice rising a little.

"See? Guys either want it all the time or they're clueless."

She kicked the sofa, making it skid across the floor violently. Before he could gather up the courage to ask another question, Faith bolted, literally. She was gone before he could open his mouth again.

Sitting down on the now moved sofa, Wesley went over and over the conversation in his mind. Guys want it all the time? What was it? Wesley literally slapped himself on the head when he realized to what she was referring. Tonight's episode was all muddled in his brain. Him seeing her with another man, he having dinner with Madeline, then ending up kissing her, then Faith seeing them together. She was angry because he was kissing Madeline, that was for certain. But she had obviously thought that her date would do more than hold hands with her.

Lying down on the sofa, Wesley drifted off until he heard footsteps. Faith strolled past him to her room, not as angry as she seemed before. He'd have to ask her in the morning what had triggered her outburst. Maybe she'd tell him.

* * *

Faith didn't want to growl at Wesley when she saw him the next morning. Her mood had lightened considerably after almost knocking down Shaun's door and telling him that if he didn't freaking put out, she'd break it off with him. He went all wishy-washy on her and told her he didn't think she wanted to sleep with him, so he held off. He didn't want to ruin it with her. They'd only been out on three dates. Any dates she'd been on, the first date was usually the last. Sex had always entered the equation.

He was a nice guy though. She was actually dating a nice guy. Shaun was a few years older, had a good job and was generally a stand-up guy. Faith wasn't used to that, being treated with respect. Now as she groaned into her cereal, she hoped that she hadn't ruined it with him.

Wesley stayed as far away from her that morning as he possibly could without making it seem like he was staying away from her. She felt bad that he had to bear the brunt of her moods. She was happy that he and Madeline were hitting it off. Maddy had dropped so many hints lately, wanting to know about Wes. She finally told the girl to ask him out. Guys were dorks, especially Wesley. He didn't have a clue. She was right about that.

Wes refilled her cup, then took her plate into the kitchen. Oooh, he was being extra nice, cleaning up her dishes too. He usually took to yelling at her to clean up her own messes.

"I'm leaving," he announced as he grabbed his briefcase.

"You don't have class for another four hours."

Wesley stopped, twitching just a little at her statement.

"I have grading to finish."

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for being such a shit last night."

Wesley then dropped his briefcase on his foot, yelping in surprise as he did.

"I was wondering."

Faith set her coffee cup down. No time like the present.

"Boyfriend trouble. Men are assholes. I took care of it."

Wesley's eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"Not like that. We came to an understanding. It's all good."

Wesley sighed in relief, turning to pick up his briefcase. He then proceeded to drop it again.

"Understanding as in?"

"He gives me all the sex I want, I won't break his fingers," she concluded with a smile on her face.

"Faith, I know as well as you do…," Wesley started, stopping when Faith held a hand up.

She giggled a little, watching as he turned beet red from embarrassment.

"You just realized that I said sex, didn't you?"

"The fact that you went back to your supposed boyfriend's apartment after our extracurricular activities last night should not concern me in the least."

"Jealous?" Faith asked, hoping that he wouldn't answer.

Was he jealous? Madeline was the first girl she had seen that he had taken an interest. That kiss she interrupted last night wasn't just a friendly peck. He was getting some action going in their kitchen. It did kind of make her jealous. She'd never tell him that though.

"So, I'll forget that you discussed your sex life with me if you don't talk to me about mine. Agreed?"

He wanted to have sex with Madeline? That kind of knocked her for a loop. They'd been so close to each other. Now, not so much. She did realize that they needed a break from being in each other's business. Maybe this dating thing was good for both of them. Life outside of slaying should be fun, not all work. She'd keep that jealousy hidden away.

"Just as long as there's no sex in the kitchen. Agreed?"

The blush was still present when he walked out the door. So there'd be no sex in the kitchen for either of them. Her face felt flushed too.

* * *

Author note: Ack. Up too late typing this. I'm on a roll. Remember, in this fic, Angel is human. Someone asked about that. You'll understand soon why he is. Faith can choke him all she wants. Please enjoy and review! Thanks for all the good words. I really do appreciate them.


	7. It's All Good Until It Isn't

Author notes: This chapter is probably rated M for mature for language and sexual situations. There's nothing graphic at all. Just a warning.

**Chapter Seven—It's All Good Until It Isn't**

Late 2002

"Do you want to tell me what in hell that was?"

Wesley really didn't have an explanation for what they had just encountered. Eight months of bliss, followed by two months of trepidation, and now the cat was out of the bag.

"I wish…," he slowly explained.

"You wish what?" Madeline said, anger in her voice. "If you didn't know what it was, then how did you make it disappear into thin air?"

Yes, the thing with vampires exploding into a cloud of dust when staked wasn't an everyday occurrence in most people's lives. Wesley thanked his lucky stars it wasn't an everyday occurrence. He and Faith's job was difficult enough as it was.

Wesley had never been that good a liar. He had sidestepped the issue for almost a year with Madeline, but it was only tonight that she had seen what really went on late at night.

Their night had started out lovely, their special dinner delightful. The restaurant they had gone to was not in one of the neighborhoods he had ever frequented. High rents don't always translate to being safe at night. They had been confronted by a vampire that was luckily working solo. Wesley's jacket always housed a stake just in case. One never knew if a vampire would jump out and attack. Which was the case tonight, he thought.

"I don't know how I did that. Honestly."

Like she'd believe that.

"We should call the cops."

"He's gone. What is there to investigate? Let's just get home quickly." Before any of the vampire's friends show up on the scene.

Wesley ushered Madeline to her car as fast as he could, but it wasn't fast enough. That lonely vampire was obviously not that lonely and had friends in the neighborhood. Two more showed up just as Madeline unlocked the car doors. Shoving her inside, Wesley fought with one of them while the other one tried to gain entrance to the car on the other side. Madeline had the forethought to lock the doors as soon as she got in, in addition to calling the cops on her cellphone. These two vampires were much more skilled in fighting than the other one had been. One even attempted to bite down on his neck before the stake in Wesley's possession found its way home. The other one lifted Wesley off the ground and threw him across the car, denting the hood in the process. All the while Madeline was screaming for the guy to stop hurting him.

The sirens off in the distance didn't make the vampire stop and run. This guy was out for blood and wouldn't stop until he got it. Before he could raise his fist again, the vampire disappeared in another cloud of dust. He had dropped his stake fighting the last guy. He gazed into Madeline's eyes as she dropped the stake abruptly, her hands shaking. This was never how he wanted her to find out about this world.

"He's gone," she said as she leaned against the car.

"Yes, he is. We must go. Now."

"But the cops are coming. We have to tell them."

As Wesley put her into the passenger seat of the car, he thought about what he was going to say next. The whole truth, half the truth, or none. He'd have to tread lightly when it came to Madeline. Ruining her faith in the world did not bode well for their relationship, for their friendship, for anything they had or did not have at the moment.

"We cannot. Let me get you home."

Madeline didn't put up much resistance as they arrived back at the warehouse. Instead of going to his place, she walked directly to her door. He wanted to come clean with her, to tell her all at once. By judging the look in her eyes, he didn't know if she could or would handle what he had to say.

"You knew what those things were, didn't you?" she turned to say to him.

"I did. I do. I owe you an explanation."

"Not tonight. I just can't deal tonight."

With that, she entered her place and shut the door. Soon after, Faith came out, looking at him with concern.

"Kid's asleep. I was actually able to get some homework done. What's wrong?"

Wesley motioned for her to come with him because he wasn't certain if Madeline was standing directly opposite the door that Faith had just exited. After they traveled across the street, Wesley opened up to his slayer as much as he could.

"She knows. Three vampires attacked us as we were walking to her car."

"Dude," Faith started as she slammed their door. "You guys were in a nice part of town too."

"I know. The first vampire was waiting for us. By the time we got to the car, two more jumped out. Madeline had to stake one of them."

Wesley slumped down into the sofa, dejected even more now that he was telling Faith the story.

"She did what?" Faith screeched.

"I must have dropped my stake as I got rid of one of them."

Faith plopped down beside him, pulling her feet up underneath her legs. It had turned colder that day, and their heating wasn't the best in the world.

"So sorry. That's wicked. Here's the question though. Did they target you because they thought you were an easy mark or because they knew who you were?"

The easy mark was the only explanation. Why else would they lie in wait? Faith had her reputation, but he thought he had always stuck to the background. It wouldn't be the first time though that a watcher had come under scrutiny by the demon community. That worried him.

First things first. He had to speak with Madeline as soon as possible, to explain to her that he cared for her. If the reason they were attacked had to do with his job, he really didn't know what he'd do about Madeline.

It didn't matter in the long run. Not one month later, Madeline had moved out of her warehouse, had put it up for sale and had taken her son far away from the danger. What he hadn't counted on though was Madeline's ex-husband. Jake was the tough guy of the neighborhood, the guy everyone went to when they were having problems. Being a cop was only part of it.

Wesley thought that Jake was going to confront him about what had happened between him and Madeline. What Jake wanted though was help. There had been an increase in attacks. The vampires had become emboldened, thinking that the slayer could not do her job. Jake didn't understand what was happening and didn't care to know all the details. He needed help. Wesley and Faith were willing to give that help. Having someone on the police force would come in handy someday.

* * *

2005

Wesley didn't have very many people to run to after leaving the hospital. Faith was his best friend. There were people in the neighborhood, but they wouldn't understand his need. Limping down the alleyway, Wesley stopped to gather his breath and his mind. What on earth was he doing?

There was no way in hell that Faith would ever betray him. She had never indicated that she could betray him. He had come to hope that she actually cared for him, considering their relationship. Leaning against the side of the building, Wesley looked down to see the stitches in his side had pulled, resulting in a spot of blood on his shirt. He knew it was new blood. Brown versus bright red was a clue.

Staggering out of the alley, he took off down the street, hoping to duck into the warehouse, grab a bag, and head out on his own, until he could figure out what had possessed Faith to hug Angel. They had been almost sworn enemies not twenty-four hours before. Well, maybe not sworn enemies, but being at each other's throats when they were in the same room wasn't all that pleasant for him to witness.

"Hey, where have you been?"

Wesley nearly jumped out of his skin, but realized that Jake stood not two feet in front of him. He grasped his side, hoping that Jake would not see the injury and not order him back to the hospital.

"Just, somewhere. Have you seen Faith?" he asked the cop.

"No. Not in a few days. Listen, about what happened yesterday. I got a line on who attacked you."

One, Jake must have known he was attacked and two, why didn't he know that Wesley had been put in the hospital? Had Faith kept that information from him? If he hadn't seen her in a few days, Jake probably didn't know the whole story.

"Good. Let's go inside."

Wesley quickly led him inside, scanning the environment for the least little threat. There seemed to be none for the moment. Maybe his luck would hold out.

"New guy in town. Heard from some demon down on Fourth that the guy wants in on everything. He wants all the vamps, all the demons to answer to him. He's got the muscle to back it up too."

Just what he needed. It was enough that he and his slayer were parked on a Hellmouth. To challenge some kind of overlord of the underworld couldn't have come at a worse time. On top of the mystery of Faith and Angel's sudden friendship.

Wesley turned around to face the cop a little too fast and almost fell. Jake caught him handily. The man was massive, with arms and legs so large that most criminals went running when they saw him. Jake would just smile at the bad guys and chase after, usually winning in the end. Although Wesley was much taller, he knew that Jake could take him down in seconds flat.

"No one told me you got hurt, man. Dammit, why aren't you in a hospital," Jake asked as he led Wesley to the couch.

"I was. There was something more urgent on my agenda right now. I need to lie low. When I mean low, I mean really low."

Wesley removed his hand from his injury. Blood soaked his palm.

"I need to make sure that Faith does not know where I've gone."

Jake didn't look pleased at that statement, but he knew the man was a good as his word, if he gave it in this instance.

"Sure. I'm not sure what kind of fight the two of you had, but you'd better kiss and make up real quick. These new bad guys look like they'll be trouble. We're gonna need all the help we can get."

Levering himself up off the couch, Wesley shook his head in agreement. After grabbing a few things, the two of them set off. Angel might be able to track his blood scent for a while, but Wesley knew a few tricks too. Doubling back, Jake deposited Wesley across the street in Madeline's old warehouse. No one had bought the thing, so Jake moved in instead. Can never be too close to the neighborhood you patrol, he had told Wesley once. Too close indeed.

* * *

2003

Faith's knee hurt like a bitch. Rubbing it, she hoped that this was not hospital worthy. It swelled like no tomorrow. Shit and double shit. Wes was gonna be pissed.

"Damn. I am so sorry, Faith."

Was she getting old that a fifteen year old could take her down? She was distracted was all. She and Wes were dancing around each other at the moment. One minute they fought like cats and dogs, the next minute he fixed her dinner. She just wished he'd get whatever out of his system and quick. Her attention span was short, now even shorter.

"Means I'm a good teacher. Now help me the fuck up the stairs," she growled back, hoping that her student wouldn't bolt and leave her there on the floor.

The fifteen year old student happened to be a girl, smaller than Faith was too. She let a little girl get the best of her. Crap, Wes was sure to find out about that. Faith couldn't even remember the girl's name off the top of her head. Sherry, Sharon, something like that. With school and slaying and the self-defense classes, Faith didn't have much time for sleep much less remembering everyone's name. She was lucky to remember her own.

The girl helped her up to her room, propping up pillows left and right.

"Um, thanks Sheryl." Shit, she knew it wasn't that.

"It's Sharon. That's OK. I gotta go. Need anything else?"

She could tell the girl wanted to bolt so fast. She'd do the same under the circumstances. Faith waved her away, falling back against the pillows in pain. Now she'd have to wait until Wes made it home. Looking at her watch, she knew it could be a few hours, so she drifted off to sleep. Might as well take advantage, she thought.

As she woke up, Faith noticed it was dark outside. She apparently had needed to rest because looking at the clock, it read eleven thirty-eight p.m. Gingerly as she could, she moved the knee. It was really sore, but that slayer healing helped it so much. Could she beg off slaying tonight? Wes might not want to, but hey this was a partnership. She had a say-so in the matter.

It was then she realized that Wes hadn't woke her up. He was bound to be home.

"Crap," she said out loud, pulling the injured leg off the bed.

Putting weight on the injury, Faith limped out of her bedroom. Wes sat on the sofa, still as can be. He held a phone in his hand. That hand was white as a sheet, as was his face. Shit, who died was all she could think.

"Wes," she quietly said as she entered the room. "What's up? Sorry about sleeping in. Knee got messed up. It's a little sore now."

Her babbling broke whatever trance Wes had placed himself in because he dropped the phone on the hard ground, making the battery pop out and slide across the floor loudly.

"That's fine," he replied, clearing his throat.

Ignoring the pain in her knee, Faith sat beside him. She wasn't all that good at comforting people, just killing the bad demons. She usually left that task to her partner. No one ever had to comfort her or him for that matter. She didn't know what to do, but to take his hand in hers. It was ice cold.

"What's wrong?"

Wes squeezed her hand. Damn, he didn't want to talk. He always talked. She needed for him to talk to her.

"You're kinda scaring me. Talk to me."

Wes turned to look at her, really look at her. Unshed tears in his eyes told her that whatever it was, it was really, really bad.

"They're all gone. I'm possibly the last one left," he explained to her, confusing the hell out of her at the same time.

"Last one what? Start from the beginning."

"The Watcher's Council is gone. A bomb."

Shit and double shit again. Her skin had been crawling all day long, hell all week long. With all the stuff happening around the world, their little corner seemed just a little saner. They kept to themselves, didn't know much of what was going on in England or with the other slayer whose name Faith did not want to mention or even think about right at that moment.

"You can't be the only watcher left. You just can't be," she said, hoping against hope that the statement was true.

"My sources are usually correct. Giles might still be alive. I'm just not sure."

Wes dropped her hand, and then proceeded to look all around the room, almost like a madman.

"We must prepare. Spells, wards. I'll protect you as best I can."

What the fuck? She had to protect him, not the other way around. It was now his ass on the line, not hers. Hers was on the line every day. Whoever had bombed the Council probably didn't even know about their existence. Buffy had been the slayer, Giles was the watcher, end of story. She and Wes had worked quietly and efficiently and the Council didn't give a rat's ass what they did.

"They just didn't blow up watchers, Wes. I know you probably had friends there. I'm sorry."

Wes finally focused on her face. The tears that had welled up were gone now. He looked determined and downright pissed off right at that moment. She needed him in the game, especially if something was going to come after him or possibly the both of them. They needed to be on guard even more now.

"Thank you," Wes said as he touched her shoulder.

Oh dammit, she thought as she drew him into a hug. They didn't hug, ever. She could count on one hand the times that they actually hugged, not counting the times he had to carry her up the stairs because some evil thing had beaten the crap out of her.

She thought he'd push her away, not wanting her to see his anger and sorrow. Only he held her tighter. It felt kind of nice to be hugged by him. Sure he was so tall, much taller than she was. He'd developed some muscle over the years though. She didn't feel like he was going to break if she hugged him back.

As she raised her head to look at him, he looked right back at her. She really wished he didn't do that because it always made her feel all tingly, like he really knew her, down to her toes. Gathering her back into an embrace, Faith just sighed. He just needed to stop being all masculine and start being her watcher.

The next day and the day after were kind of rough for the poor guy. It was only after he received a call from Giles did he breathe a little better. She thought he just might pop until he got that phone call. The two of them weren't the only watchers, but there were damn few left. Giles kept him on the phone for a while. Faith literally jumped up and down, gesturing for him to hurry it up and tell her everything.

"So, so," she started as he gently put down the phone.

"Giles is alive. So is my father."

Oh yay, she thought sarcastically. Why he wasn't killed with the rest of the watchers was probably a story for another day. She needed to know the facts before she burst into flames.

"This may come as a shock. Faith, how is your knee?"

Shock, knee. How were these two things even remotely related? Was she going to have to smack him to bring him around?

"Sore. It'll heal. No biggie. Tell me what the fuck is going on before I knock the ever living shit out of you."

Faith placed her hands on her hips, showing that she meant every single word she had just told him. Sparring would be easy since they were in the training room. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the door open on the other side of the room. No interruptions, please not now.

"Why do you think it took that long to heal?"

Screw whoever walked into the room. She was taking him down.

"Lucky shot. Wanna see if I get in a lucky shot on you?"

Wes crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't going to fight back. That took all the fun out of it.

"Not lucky. Sharon, come in."

Wes had seen her enter too. Interruptions. They couldn't talk in front of the public.

"Faith, Giles told me something that I didn't want to believe. There may not be any more watchers, but somehow…," he stated, dropping his hands to his sides.

OK, so now he wanted to fight with her. She'd had that itch all day long since not getting to go out the night before.

"Mr. Pryce, I'm glad you're here. I just wanted to apologize again for hurting Faith. I didn't mean to."

Sharon had started talking, but Faith wasn't listening. She kept looking directly into Wesley's eyes, trying to judge what his next move might be. As she circled around him, she noticed that Sharon had moved closer to Wes. Shit, the girl needed to move out of the way. When she took her swing finally, Sharon blocked it like a pro.

Dammit, Wes wasn't even worried that she was going to hit him. He knew that she'd pull the punch, for the most part. What she hadn't counted on was Sharon blocking the punch.

"Wanna tell me now what else Giles told you. Oh, let me guess. I'm dead and Sharon is the new slayer."

"Slayer? What's a slayer?" Sharon asked Faith.

"Faith, you're not dead. Do you feel dead?"

Faith patted herself down. "Nope. Sharon, stay out of this. Tell me now or I will take you out."

Wes grinned a little. It wasn't a happy grin though. "She's a slayer. You're a slayer. There are hundreds, possibly thousands of slayers. They have all been activated."

Made it seem like she was a robot, but man was he crazy or what? There was no way in hell that there could be thousands of slayers running around the world. No way in hell. Of course, Sharon did best her without training.

"OK. I'm not THE slayer anymore. Yippee. Now what?"

Wes eyed her up and down, expecting her to attack at any moment. She was glad to keep him on his toes, at least for the time being. They were going to have words, lots and lots of words after this was all over.

"I need to do some research for Giles on something called the First. You need to keep her out of trouble," Wes added, rubbing his three day stubble.

Sharon looked at Wes like he was her freaking savior or something. Faith looked at him as her damn watcher. Hers and hers only, she reminded herself.

Four other girls showed up in the next week. Housing them wasn't that much of a problem. The new bad guy was thankfully lying low. Only there were other bad guys in the form of crazy no-eyed creepy guys. Luckily she and the girls that she now had to train took care of them. Wes put up some wards and the place was a bit safer for all of them.

Word would come from Giles every now and again, but the fact that the big deal was happening at the other Hellmouth made Faith want to jump on a plane and go there to deal with it. Her dreams were driving her crazy, the girls were driving her even more crazy, and Wes was driving her crazy most of all. With the research and the wards and everything else they had to deal with, he wasn't taking care of himself.

He helped train the girls, researched the night away and started all over the next day. Luckily he had built up some vacation and sick days and had found someone else to teach his classes. Faith just wished he'd slow down, if just a little.

Faith found him one night, pouring over the books. She looked them over, seeing the drawings of the guys who had attacked them. Shivers went up and down her spine at the thought of those guys hurting the new girls. Setting the sandwich down she had made for him, she promptly started working out the knots in his neck. She had taken to doing this nightly, just so he could see that she wanted to contribute, if just a little. The books meant nothing to her, although she had been successful in finding out info on the internet for him that morning. His gratefulness had earned her another brief hug.

His small groan made her feel just a little giddy. She hated doing all this crap just as much as he did, but they had a job to do. Protect those girls and find out what to do in case the First succeeded and spread out past Sunnydale.

"Faith, if you do not stop, I might just melt into a puddle of goo. Think of the books, my dear."

Faith snorted a little and traced a fingernail down his spine. Bending down, she came close to his ear. Wes moved his head her way, making them touch noses. Now was the time to move back out of his personal space, Faith thought. Yeah, so when they first got together as slayer and watcher, she figured that if she needed her itch scratched, then he'd be there for her. That hadn't happened since she'd found plenty of guys, well a few guys out there to date and he had girlfriends too. They both had their own lives outside of the slaying gig.

Why'd he have to get all sexy and angry on her? Didn't he know what that did to her insides? He needed to pull the hell away from her. But why didn't she pull away and laugh it off?

"Faith," he whispered.

Oh now he went and did it. Saying her name was the switch that set her off. Instead of backing off and saving the friendship, the working relationship, she dove in and kissed him. Damn was he good.

Climbing into his lap, she didn't stop kissing him until he motioned to be let up for air.

"Maybe we should stop," he breathlessly told her as his hands roamed up and down her body.

"Stop? I don't think so. You started this," she explained as she gently bit his jaw.

"Started this? What did I do?"

If he didn't do other things to her, she just might have to take him down, just like she had promised the other day. Sparring without clothes might just be more fun.

"Say my name."

"Faith," he answered back.

"See. That did it."

Those were the last words that either spoke for at least an hour. The office was the only place where there weren't girls. Faith just hoped none of them heard what the two of them were doing.

Faith kind of thought she'd have to make all the moves, but Wes knew his way around, much to her delight. Clothes flew everywhere, the chair wasn't the most comfortable place, but she knew soon after that this was exactly what Wes needed. Not that she didn't enjoy it too.

"I cannot believe we just," he started as his hands worked through her hair.

"Don't you dare ruin this."

"Faith."

"Don't say my name again," she begged as he grinned at her.

* * *

Author notes: Sorry for not updating. I was off camping. Hope you enjoyed. All the reviews have been helpful and very much appreciated. Please keep reading and reviewing. Thanks again. I know I'm jumping all around the timeline. It'll make sense really soon. Just stick with it! Y'all are the greatest.


	8. Don't Leave Me

**Chapter Eight—Don't Leave Me**

2003

In the end, Giles requested that all the girls travel to Sunnydale. They needed all the help they could get. He did tell Wesley that Faith could not come with them, under any circumstance. If the girls reverted back to their former selves, Faith would still be the slayer. She needed to stay as far away from the action as possible. After that communication, Wesley did not receive any further updates.

The news told the whole story. A sinkhole swallowed up the small town, which they knew to be Sunnydale. Most people had been evacuated, but a few had died in the chaos. Still, no word from Giles or the girls they had sent ahead. Wesley couldn't think about what had happened because he and Faith had to deal with their own issues, mainly that the Cleveland Hellmouth was much more active.

They seemed to work non-stop for weeks on end without much backup. Sure, they had friends who had joined the fight. Their own little ragtag crew to help out.

Weeks turned into months. Things calmed somewhat, but Faith was having slayer dreams again, dreams where weird creatures would come out of the walls and attack at all hours. The other dreams, the ones that bothered her the most, she wouldn't even tell him about those.

Their work lives took a turn for the better when Faith graduated not only early, but with honors from college. He was so proud of her. She immediately found a job as a graphic arts designer. Wesley was amazed at her ability to create such beautiful art on the computer screen. Her employer gave her a raise after just a few months on the job.

Their lives slowly got back to normal. As normal as a slayer and watcher could be. Faith moved into his room after going back and forth about the merits of living on her own. She had her own income, her own right to live as she wanted for the first time in her life.

"You can always move back into your room," he added as she paced in front of him.

"What? Why would I want to do that?"

"If we broke up."

The look of oh crossed her face. Faith crossed her arms over her chest and nodded no. She'd never been in a real relationship before. There had been guys, dates, even guys coming to dinner. None of them had asked that she either marry or live with them. Faith had never let them get that close.

"Not gonna happen."

So determined to make everything perfect and right was his Faith. Sure, she still left her towels on the ground in the bathroom, didn't wash her dishes when needed or left her shoes around so he could trip over them. Each weapon they used was cleaned, sharpened, and placed in the locked cabinet as they should have been. She never questioned (almost never) when he told her that she needed to do something out in the field. She trusted him implicitly out there.

Just as he trusted her, with everything. Could he trust her with his heart? He'd had it hurt a few times, nothing major. Guys got over those things quicker, Jake had explained to him one evening when they were both drunker than he'd ever been. He'd paid for that the next morning, along with a boot to his backside from Faith.

"You'd be dead." She grinned right after she said that.

"Ha ha, very funny."

Faith plopped down beside him and took his hand in hers. He really did like her gestures of affection. Before, they gave each other space, lots of space. Personal space to Faith had become very important to her. He couldn't touch her unless she was hurting. Now, things were different. She touched all the time, sometimes when she shouldn't. Not that he minded her affection.

Gradually her hand worked its way over to his thigh. They needed to check out an issue someone had with a demon living in a basement. He almost mentioned how unprofessional it would be to cancel on the meeting. Only she removed her hand first, like she had read his mind.

"Distracting me. Let's motor before I throw you down and have my way with you."

Wesley sputtered out a yes and followed her blindly into the night. Her mind always went back to sex. He certainly didn't mind that. It hardly ever interfered with the slaying, except that time a vampire caught them unawares while Faith had her hand down his pants. Now she was all business.

* * *

2005

"Where the fuck did he go? He's hurt, dammit. He could be anywhere," Faith raged as Angel stood back.

Angel couldn't track him at all. Blood was not his thing anymore. Did Wesley realize that and was right under their noses? Or did he run all the way to England and Daddy Pryce? Angel could still track shoe prints, but those had disappeared around the corner of the warehouse. Faith's skin itched like she was on fire. She was cold and hot at the same time. Stripping off her jacket, she threw it across the room.

"We have to find him."

Angel shook his head yes. "What do you want me to do? I've done my best."

"Sometimes I wish you were still a vampire," she growled back, not wanting him around.

Sure, they'd bonded over her dreams. Sure, she believed him now when he said that Wes was in grave danger. She now believed that her slayer dreams were coming true. Would this Vail guy kill him or not? Could she stop it from happening? Angel had finally explained it all in plain English. She needed to take Wes to Los Angeles and meet with these Oracles. They'd know of a way to save Wes from the bad guy. They'd help her change the timeline for the better. She wasn't going to lose her watcher.

"So do I, Faith."

It took her a whole week of detective work in addition to Angel asking around the neighborhood, but they managed to track down her wayward watcher. Only when they arrived in the room he had been staying for the week, he was missing. Faith found dried blood in the bathroom, but no Wes. The sink was still wet though. He couldn't have been gone for long. An hour tops, possibly only a few minutes. But they had missed him.

That afternoon, with no other ideas coming to her, she decided that if he had left the area, he might need money. So she called the bank and asked for a balance of their account. That was correct. Then she called the credit card company, to ask if there were any transactions. There was. One transaction made that morning in Wesley's name by an airline. Not only had Wesley disappeared, he had done so without so much as a goodbye. The frightening thing was he wasn't headed home to England; he was headed to Los Angeles. He was headed straight for the guy that was going to kill him.

* * *

Wesley's side still pulled a bit when he stretched the wrong way. It started to heal nicely though. No slayer healing for him but at least he did heal fast for a human. Using the credit card was the only way he would be able to travel to Los Angeles. Unraveling the mystery had to take priority. Faith's dreams, Angel's pleas, they all added up to something. Angel knew more than he was telling them. Faith knew more too, possibly not wanting to scare him. He'd do the research, then head back to Cleveland with the answers.

Where to start? He had no friends in Los Angeles. Jake had given him the number of an old friend of his. Luckily this Kate person could help him. Not having Faith or Angel guide him could be a problem. He could possibly track where Cordelia had been, where she had been employed and find the answers that way.

As luck would have it, Kate was on duty when he inquired about meeting her. Tall, blonde, quiet striking, she looked as if she'd been through the ringer more than once in her life.

"Jake said you were coming. Follow me," she told him brusquely.

She led him into a darkened room. Files were stacked high on a table, almost teetering off into a big mess. Wesley caught them before they could.

"These are all the files on Angel that I have."

He'd be there for a week going through them.

"Do you know Angel?"

Kate laughed. "Did. He had a habit of making messes that I had to clean up. Always a pain in my ass. Then he turned to the dark side."

In all the dealings with Angel, he'd never thought that Angel had turned to the dark side or even work with them. Sure, he had been one of the most notorious vampires of all time, taking glee in killing his victims. Angel worked for good now, or so he thought.

By the look on Kate's face, he figured that she wasn't playing with him. Something had happened between Angel and Kate, something so serious that she was willing to let Wesley look at police files that weren't usually available to the public.

"He's human."

The look of shock on Kate's face said it all. She knew of Angel's former status as a vampire, but obviously didn't know about what had happened to him, what had turned him human. Angel had never shared how he had become human with him or with Faith. Was it possible Angel had told Faith? Was this another betrayal? Faith had never kept anything from him, her face and mind like an open book. He possibly had underestimated his slayer this time.

"I see. I don't know if that's a punishment or the best thing that's ever happened to him."

Wesley stared at the piles of files directly before him. Unfortunately now was not the time to figure out Angel, if there ever was a time. His life could very well be on the line, if Wesley calculated everything correctly.

"I do appreciate your help on this. Jake told me that you're a good police officer."

Kate nodded to him and turned to leave. Just before she pulled the door open, she turned to him once more.

"Whatever happened to Angel, whatever you're here for, something big is going down. The police can't keep up, people are getting scared. It just isn't right."

Not being right was the operative phrase.

* * *

2003

Domestic bliss. Just a bunch of crap, Faith thought. If Wesley didn't stop cleaning, she'd scream. Dust motes flew through the air where the sun shown down on the both of them. Faith tried to work on her newest project, but Wesley's dusting had made her sneeze one too many times. He was getting on her last nerve.

"Honey, if you don't put down that duster, I'm gonna cram it where the sun don't shine," she told him with a sweet voice.

He immediately shot up from his crouched position over the coffee table, eyeballing her to make sure she wasn't going to collect on that promise right away.

"I'll just go in the kitchen then. Possibly bake a cake."

Bake a cake? What, was her lover turning into the Iron Chef or something? What in hell had crawled up his ass and died? Who did he think he was? She almost called him Princess Margaret right then and there, but knew that wouldn't help matters one bit. Restraint had been learned by Faith. She exercised it most of the time.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

There, she'd said it out loud. There was a problem between them. He had doted too much in the last few weeks. It was pissing her off something fierce.

"Problem? Why on earth would you think there was a problem? I am just trying to keep some semblance of order around here. If you would help around here every once in a while, you'd see that."

Yep, there it was. Sure, she sometimes fell down on her responsibilities. Sure, she definitely wasn't a housekeeper at all. She had fixed his car only last week. She paid the freaking bills. She even occasionally shopped for groceries, except sometimes he got mad at her for buying too much junk food. She helped with the laundry. She slayed until the sun came up. What else did he want? Her in a maid's costume, running around with that damn duster, at his beck and call?

Faith hastily got up, straightened her papers, picked up all the dishes and stomped into the kitchen. Domestic bliss was just a bunch of crap, of now she was sure. How'd people stay married for decades was beyond her realm of thinking. Instead of breaking all the dishes, Faith obediently placed them all in the dishwasher, pressed start and started wiping the counters. She felt Wesley's presence even though she hadn't actually heard him enter the room.

"I think I owe you an apology. I know I haven't been pleasant to be around lately."

That was the understatement of the year. Downright shitty to live with him at the moment, that was for sure. His moodiness didn't compliment her moodiness at all. Luckily they weren't moody at the same time. She'd hate to accidentally break something on him if it happened.

Faith just grunted back at him, figuring if he kept talking to her, she'd find out what in hell was wrong. Sure, they fought. What couple didn't? Only she could hurt him physically if she wasn't careful and he sure could use those fancy words against her when necessary. No one had the advantage in this relationship. She never hurt him and he tried to not hurt her with his words. Only she practiced restraint and he sometimes did not.

"My father called last week."

Why hadn't she seen that one coming? Only a few watchers left in the world, no word from Giles at all and Wes's father probably being a dick.

"He wants me to come to England, help train new watchers."

And there it was. She needed a watcher, dammit. She couldn't do this alone.

"What about me?"

Not that she wanted to make this all about her.

"He explained that he would send another watcher out, one with less experience, mind you."

Faith turned to see him in the dim light of the sun setting behind him. His face creased in worry as his arms defensively crossed in front of him.

"Just what I need. Another Wesley I've Got a Stick Up My Ass Watcher."

He frowned at her underhanded comment, but didn't take the bait. Damn, this has to be serious, she figured.

"I'm not saying I was the best watcher you could have had."

Rehashing the past did not sit well in her stomach. They had gotten past all that shit a long time ago. The bond that had formed between the two of them was strong, hopefully stronger than any crap that could happen. Like what was happening right now before her eyes.

"Well, you sucked while we were in Sunnydale. Now, not so much."

Wes gave her a little lopsided grin, relaxing his shoulders just a little. Her little joke eased a bit of tension. She was still waiting for the big reveal.

"He has ordered me back to England."

Now there it was. Daddy Pryce was ordering Wes around again. Where in hell was Giles in all of this? Probably too busy fawning over Buffy.

"Since when do you take orders from him?"

Wes rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. "Since he became head of the Council."

Faith laughed. She'd have to convince him that the two of them didn't take orders from anyone, especially cowards like his father. Could Wes honestly think that he'd be better off away from her, in England where his father had sway over his life?

"Dude, this is just fucked up. You're not leaving."

End of story, she had wanted to add. The look of defiance though made her heart sink a little. She was doing the same thing his father did to him. Ordering Wes around probably wasn't such a great idea. Only her temper flared at the possibility of him leaving her for good.

"I didn't say I was leaving. Why on earth would you think that?"

She didn't want to shout the phrase because everyone leaves her. He'd think she was a nutcase. He had stuck by her longer than anyone else had in her life. Faith turned so he couldn't see the hurt on her face. Instead, he turned it back towards him. His hands were cool to the touch, much calmer than she was. She finally detected a slight tremor in them as she concentrated on his eyes. Dammit, why'd he have to go and take his glasses off? Those blue eyes of his always did seem to mesmerize her.

"I don't want you to leave," she whispered, breaking the silence.

"I will never leave you," he declared as his head lowered to hers.

The kiss he gave her was possessive, full of anger. Instead of her fighting back, taking that anger, she softened the kiss, hoping with that he would get that she was sorry she ever thought he'd leave her. He slumped against her, pulling her tight against him in a bear hug. Her project forgotten, Faith led Wes to the bedroom, stripped him slowly and proceeded to make sure he wouldn't leave.

* * *

Author notes: Wow, sorry for not updating recently. I really have to get back to posting more often. I think, I hope that this will wrap up in a few more chapters. We'll see. I do have it all mapped out. Sometimes the characters take over though. Thanks for all the reviews. Keep reading. Have fun.

On another note, I messed up in the last chapter when I stated that Angel could follow Wesley's scent. Not if he isn't a vampire anymore, he can't. I screwed up. I can't figure out how to replace a chapter without screwing up the whole fic. So there you have it. Continuity error!


	9. The Girl, the Gold Watch and Everything

**Chapter Nine—A Girl, A Gold Watch and Everything**

Why? None of this information made any sense to him? Angel seemed to work for himself right up until late 2003. Surely Kate was right about her help or interference, if he could ask Angel. She had even taken to arresting him a few times. Probably saved his life. Why would he work for a law firm? That just didn't seem to be Angel's style. He always was a loner in Sunnydale.

Looking over some of the other information, Angel had several people in his employ, one of which did have a criminal record. That person was the only one still alive as far as he could tell. Kate had placed copies of death certificates for Francis Doyle, Cordelia Chase and Winifred Burkle in the top file for him to see. Only Charles Gunn was possibly still alive. No death notice for him. That would be where he would start. Maybe this Mr. Gunn could give him some answers. The files surely didn't help him at all.

Kate may have not been happy to see him, but she was more than willing to give him the information he needed to find Mr. Gunn. Getting lost more than once, Wesley found the youth center that Kate had informed him where he could find Angel's former employee. Teenagers ran in and out of the facility, so Wesley had to duck a few times to not get hit with a stray ball. The chaos died down somewhat as he entered the facility. A man sat behind a desk, tapping away on an ancient computer, banging on it occasionally trying to get it to do what he wanted it to do.

"Excuse me. Could you tell me where I could find a Mr. Charles Gunn?" Wesley asked when the tapping on the keyboard ceased.

The large, dark-skinned man turned in his chair, warily looking around Wesley for some unperceived threat. Wesley noticed that the man was fearful, possibly even scared of him.

"Dunno. Sorry."

The man tightly pulled a desk drawer open, placing a few objects in there. He wouldn't meet Wesley's eyes. This might take some convincing, Wesley thought. If this Mr. Gunn did not want to be found, he wouldn't be. Blast it, why hadn't he asked Kate for a photo?

"I'm sorry to bother you. It's nothing serious, you see. We might have a mutual friend that I'm trying to track down and I just thought he might be able to help."

The man slammed his hand down on the desk a little too hard for the situation. Either Wesley was a terrible liar or this guy was a bit more perceptive than he thought? Wesley didn't feel like he was a threatening sort of man. Faith had even commented several times that he just didn't look menacing enough.

"Not here. He's gone."

Dejected, Wesley turned to go. This was possibly his only lead, except he did have Angel's former address from the file.

"If you see him in the near future, could you please inform him that I'll be at this address."

Wesley handed him the address and turned to go. He knew that he saw a look of astonishment on the man's face right before turning. Not wanting to give anything away, he walked out the door confidently, not turning to see any other reactions. That man did know who Charles Gunn was. And he was leading Mr. Gunn right to him. Wesley just hoped that the address panned out.

* * *

Faith was frantic. Wesley was gone. They didn't know where he was. Touching down in Los Angeles, Faith peppered Angel with questions about where Wes might go, what he might see. All Angel wanted to do was go see the Oracles. All Faith wanted to do was see Wes. Screw these Oracles.

She was dead tired, hungry and scatterbrained. Pulling up in front of some nondescript building, Angel led her into a basement full of junk. If these Oracles were some homeless bums or crazy people, she'd strangle Angel on the spot. Only when the door opened and let them into this quiet, serene oasis, decorated with marble, Faith was intrigued. These Oracles exist? She kept thinking that Angel had lost some marbles.

"So to be able to get in, we have to offer them something," Angel explained.

"What? Like some kind of sacrifice? Don't look at me. I got nothin'."

Angel rolled his eyes at her and placed a small coin into some kind of urn. In a poof of smoke, there they were, standing in front of two really strange looking people, one male, one female.

"Why are you here?" the female announced as she fiddled with her curls.

"We need your help. A friend of ours. We can't find him."

"This does not concern us, human," the male responded to Angel's plea.

"It will concern you when you find out who our friend is."

The creepy people, as Faith nicknamed them in her head, just tilted their heads to tell Angel they were all ears.

"Pryce must be brought here. That was the bargain."

"Bargain?" Faith questioned. "What the hell did you do?"

"No bargain, Faith."

Faith called bullshit on that. Angel was hiding yet another thing. This thing that they were doing was ruining all of their lives. Wanting to find Wesley, Faith tugged on Angel's jacket, trying to get his attention. It was like there was some kind of telepathy going on between Angel and the creepy lady with the weird hair.

"You must comply," the woman reiterated. "Because if you do not, all is lost."

"All," the male piped up.

"What is this comply crap. What kind of hold do these creepy things have on you? Dammit, Angel. Just answer me straight."

The creepy people faded to nothingness right before their eyes. Faith couldn't even get answers from them.

"Let's find Wesley."

* * *

"Knew it wouldn't take you long to figure it out."

The voice was coming from somewhere, but Wesley could not pinpoint it. The lights either did not work or he had not found the correct switch. The place echoed a bit, throwing off Wesley's sense of where a threat might leap out next.

"I beg your pardon. Do I know you?"

"You did. You do. Shit, I don't even know anymore. Where's the damn vampire?"

If he was referring to Angel, Wesley didn't have a clue. With Faith at Angel's side, they probably were not too far behind him. He had to work fast.

"Charles Gunn?'

"In the flesh."

The lights flipped on, temporarily blinding Wesley from seeing Mr. Gunn at that instant. When he did regain his vision a few moments later, Wesley sighed.

"I see that you took that information that I gave you. Are you really Charles Gunn?"

The large man he had met at the youth center stood unsteadily on his feet, supported by a cane. Scars marred his right hand, something Wesley hadn't noticed a few hours ago. But it was the look that Mr. Gunn was giving him right then. Like the scars ran much deeper than just a mangled hand.

"Yeah. Surprised you didn't find me years ago. You always were the best at tracking down a suspect."

Suspect, Wesley thought. What on earth is this man talking about? Wesley made his way down the wide steps, seeing the vastness of the space for the first time. In its heyday, this place was probably full of activity and people. Now it was an abandoned hotel with dust and cobwebs.

"What suspect would that be?"

"Right," Gunn suddenly smiling at him. "Forgot. You're not him. In my world, you're worm food."

Wesley figured out exactly what worm food meant. What he couldn't figure out was why Mr. Gunn thought he was dead?

"Mr. Gunn, if you could explain exactly to what you're referring, I would greatly appreciate it."

"One, it's just Gunn. No mister. Two, I wish I could explain what happened. Angel's probably tried a dozen times, hasn't he?"

So Gunn does know Angel and how tenacious he could be at times.

"You worked for Angel?" Wesley asked as he slowly strolled around what appeared to be the lobby of the once ornate hotel.

"Worked? I guess you could call it that. Sacrificed is more like it. Hell, I knew what I was in for. Should have seen it coming a mile away. Trust. Fucking trust. Gotta hand it to the man, he knew how to make that happen."

So Gunn trusted Angel, which must have ended badly. Looking at the limp Gunn had when he moved, Wesley concluded it must have been a very bad ending.

"You trusted Angel it appears. What happened?"

Gunn shook his head and sighed. "Ended the world. Apocalypse of epic proportions. What else is new?"

That obviously hadn't happened, yet. Wesley was standing, talking to a man who knew nothing about him, the world outside went about its daily business. Unless there was an apocalypse looming, one hadn't happened. The end of the world did not happen. Unless Gunn didn't belong here.

"You're dead."

Gunn laughed. "Give the man a prize."

He was not dead. Gunn was standing not five feet from him.

"How did you get here? Portal?"

"As I said, smartest man on the planet. Not much sense to speak of, but you sure are smart."

Wesley didn't feel smart at the moment. He felt out of place, out of sorts, lost in a sea of doubt and dishonesty, particularly towards Faith and her trust in him. If he had come here and found nothing, then going back to her, explaining to her that his journey was for naught, he might feel better. This just made him feel bitter. He had betrayed her trust in him.

"Smart? Hardly. I left the best thing I ever had in the world to come here and listen to some made-up story about a person who jumped through a portal from another dimension. What was I thinking?"

Gunn looked stunned, like Wesley had punched him in the stomach. "Yeah, I thought. Nothing. I should leave."

Gunn slowly made his way up the steps to the exit, to the bright sun of the midday. Turning, he raised his cane and pointed at Wesley.

"We were once best friends. Remember that. I wish you could remember that."

Playing along might be best, he thought. But what if it were all true? Could he be best friends with this man in front of him? Possibly. Gunn turned to leave.

"Once? You said we were once best friends. What came between us?"

"A girl, English. A girl."

With that, Gunn pushed his way out of the dusty hotel into the sunlight.

* * *

Author notes: I know that this is horribly short for a chapter, but this is how it ended up being. Sorry for my tardiness. It's just not coming out as well as I thought it would. I'm glad though I was able to pull that scene together finally. So bittersweet to see Gunn and Wes together again. Review if you can. I really am getting nearer to the end on this. Confrontation abounds very soon. Wes and Faith cannot stay apart for too long. Stay tuned for more. Does anyone get the reference in the title?


End file.
